


Toy

by ZoyciteM



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Plug, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Barebacking, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Bottom Misha Collins, Caning, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Corporal Punishment, Dark fic, Dissociation, Dom Jensen Ackles, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Face-Fucking, First Time, Forced Orgasm, HEA, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Humiliation, Hurt Jared Padalecki, Imprisonment, Jared Padalecki Whump, Jared!Whump, Kidnapping, M/M, Manhandling, Master Jensen Ackles, Muteness, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paddling, Painplay, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sadism, Self-Harm, Shock Collars, Situational Humiliation, Slave Jared Padalecki, Slavery, Sociopath Jensen Ackles, Sub Jared Padalecki, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Teenagers, Top Jensen Ackles, Top Jimmy Novak, Top Misha Collins, Torture, Triggers, Twincest, Verbal Humiliation, Very Dark Fic, Very Very Dark Fic, bastinado, spoiled rich kids, traumatic mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoyciteM/pseuds/ZoyciteM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen gets a very special sixteenth birthday present - his first body slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome. I hope you guys like it.
> 
> Feedback is great - it gives me the fuel I need to keep writing. :)

Jared knew when he didn't belong.

When his family moved into town, his parents enrolled himself and his younger sister in the private high school, saying they weren't comfortable with the neighbourhood the public one was in. To be honest, neither was Jared – he didn't have any desire to be mugged on his way to or from it.

Jared tugged at the collar of his stiff dress shirt. It was wretchedly uncomfortable. He was used to wearing whatever he wanted – t-shirts, hoodies, and ripped, worn-in jeans. He glanced down – his tie was crooked. His tie _always_ seemed to be crooked. He straightened it self-consciously.

When he looked back up, there was a younger boy looking back at him from down the hall. He had wide, bright green eyes. Jared would've described him as handsome, but honestly, he fell more on the 'pretty' side of the scale, with those eyes and his plush lips. The boy held eye contact for a moment before smirking and turning to talk to his friends.

Jared flushed. He really didn't need sophomores making fun of him. He was a senior, for chrissakes. Jared stood up a little straighter, squared his shoulders, grabbed his books from his locker, and went to his next class.

 

*

 

Jared was glad to learn that, despite coming from a public-school upbringing, he wasn't miles behind everyone else. In fact, it was quite the opposite – he was excelling in his classes. The only one that gave him a little trouble was Latin, because he'd never studied it before, but who even used Latin?

He was doing so well that he thought he might be able to get a full ride to college, and be the first person in his family to go. He was pretty sure he wanted to study law.

Jared was eating alone at lunch that day when he saw the green-eyed boy watching him again. The boy whispered something to his companion, who turned and looked at Jared as well. The boy turned back to Green Eyes and nodded, whispering something. Green Eyes grinned.

He had learned enough about the school to know that Green Eyes and his friends were amongst the wealthiest kids at the school. He'd seen Green Eyes in the school's parking lot, driving a brand-new Range Rover - Jared swore that it was a hundred thousand dollar car. Jared's entire _family_ had never had that much money.

Jared frowned down at his sandwich, feeling distinctly put on the spot by the younger boys, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He was uncomfortable with the attention.

 

*

 

By the third time it happened, Jared knew that Green Eyes' name was Jensen. _Pretentious name for a pretentious twat._ And Jared had been right about the car – it had been a sixteenth birthday gift from his parents. When Jared saw Jensen staring at him from across the hall this time, he stared right back, a challenge in his eyes. Jensen seemed haughtily amused, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He winked at Jared, before turning to walk away with his friends.

 

*

 

That afternoon, after school let out, it didn't end up mattering how good the neighbourhood was – Jared was taken.

He was grabbed right off the sidewalk as he walked home. Shoved into some sort of dark-coloured van. His captors immediately slipped a black fabric sack over his head. Considering how roughly he was being handled, the men were being unusually conscientious about not touching his face.

Jared struggled and kicked. “What the hell?! Let me go, you bastards!” He got one good kick off – catching one of the men in the gut, judging by the sharp exhale, before they zip-tied his ankles together. They zip-tied his hands together, too, behind his back. Jared was forced to kneel on the floor of the van, frightened and breathing hard. His breath was hot, under the hood.

“Look, I don't know who you guys are, or who it is you think you've taken, but you've got the wrong guy. My... my family doesn't have any money, they can't pay a ransom.” Jared waited for a response, but not one of the men said a word.

“Seriously, just let me go. You've got the wrong kid!” Jared tried to struggle against the ties, feeling them cut into his wrists. Someone's hand dropped onto his shoulder and held him still.

“Keep on fighting, boy, and we'll sedate you.” The voice was male, deep, definitely an adult.

“Fuck you! Let me go!” Jared wrenched away from the hand, feeling the tie around his wrist cut in deeply. He flailed and kicked as best he could, but he was forced face-down against the floor of the van. Jared felt a tiny prick in the side of his neck.

Things got very dark, and quiet, very quickly.

 

*

 

Jared woke in some sort of small bedroom, flat on his back on a narrow bed. He sat up quickly, too quickly, and felt a wave of nausea from the drugs wash over him. There was a lamp on, on the small side-table, giving the room a yellow glow. Other than the bed and nightstand, the only other furniture was a small chest of drawers, an empty bookshelf, and what appeared to be a hamper. There were hardwood floors, and warm beige walls. There were two doors and no windows.

Jared looked down and found his uniform was missing – he was dressed in a simple white tunic and pants, rather like hospital scrubs. No socks, no shoes, no underwear. His wrists, where the zip ties had cut in, were carefully and neatly bandaged.

Jared got up, warily. He tried the door near the foot of the bed – it was locked. He tried the other and it led to a very small bathroom, with a toilet, sink, and shower stall. The medicine cabinet above the sink was empty, as were the drawers of the vanity, save for a toothbrush, toothpaste, and razor, all unopened. A peek in the shower stall showed shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. There were white towels and a couple of washcloths in a tidy pile beside the sink.

Jared wandered back into the bedroom, and looked inside the chest of drawers. There was a small pile of three more of the tunic shirts, and three more of the drawstring bottoms. Everything was white.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging. He still felt a little ill from the shot they had given him. Where the hell was he? What was going on? Jared stood suddenly, walking to the locked door. He knocked tentatively on it. To his immense surprise, it opened, swinging inwards.

The man who opened it was _huge_ , dwarfing Jared's slender 6'2” frame. Jared immediately spotted the holstered pistol on his belt. He had a dark-brown military haircut and dark eyes. “Yes?” There was hallway beyond the door.

Jared gaped.

“Was there something you needed?” The tall man asked, staring down at Jared.

“I... I... where am I?” Jared stammered.

“At the home of your master. In your room.”

“M-my room? This isn't my room, and it isn't my home, and I need to _go_.” Jared tried to push past the taller man, who lifted one giant hand and placed it against Jared's chest, pushing him gently back into the room.

“I'm afraid that's not an option. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”

Jared mouthed wordlessly, stunned, until he found his voice. “M-my parents. I have to talk to my parents.”

“I'm sorry, that's not permitted.” The guard shifted, blocking the doorway. “Would you care for something to eat?”

Jared backed up a step, shaking his head. “No. No, I don't want to fucking eat. I want _out_ of here. Let me go!”

“Please. Language.” The guard looked mildly admonishing, and genuinely concerned. “If you continue to act out, I will be forced to sedate you again.”

Jared raised a hand, intending to hit the guard, but the guard grabbed his wrist and spun him, pressing him up against the wall before Jared was even sure what had happened. Jared blinked, immobilized, but not in any pain. He felt the tiny prick in his neck again, and started to droop. The guard scooped him up, bridal-style, and laid him down gently on the bed.

 _Fucker knows kung fu,_ was the last thing he thought before the darkness took him.

 

*

 

When Jared woke next, the huge guard was standing in his room, against the doorway to the hall. Jared blinked, his head feeling fuzzy.

“Good morning. I've been tasked with explaining some rules to you.”

Jared stared. 

“My name is Henrik. I will be your guard. Another guard, Erik, will take my place at night. There will always be someone at your door. If you ever need something, you may ask for it.”

“Each morning, you will shower, using the provided supplies, and brush your teeth. Put your wet towels and worn clothing into the hamper, and don clean ones. Afterwards, you may request breakfast.” Henrik gestured to Jared's nightstand. Jared glanced over, and saw a silver tray with glasses of milk and orange juice, and a silver dome covering a plate. “Do you have any dietary restrictions, or allergies, that we should be aware of?”

Jared shook his head mutely.

“Excellent. You should know, that if you choose not to eat for any period of time lasting for more than twelve hours, you will be relocated to an on-site medical office, where you will be strapped down, have a tube forced down your throat, and be fed in that manner.”

Jared's eyes widened.

“I hope this situation will not arise – that you will show enough wisdom to avoid it.” Henrik eyeballed Jared seriously.

“I... I'll eat.” Jared's voice was quiet.

“I'm glad. The rest of the time, you will be available at the whim of young Master Ackles. He may require you during the day, or in the evening. You will be asleep before one o'clock in the morning, each night, or we will sedate you.”

Jared nodded his understanding. _Young master who??_

“Be aware that your room and bathroom are monitored with video and sound. Misbehaviour will be punished. The use of foul language will be punished. Failure to follow the rules will be punished. You are now the property of the Ackles estate, and will behave in a manner befitting your position.”

Jared frowned, “I'm... I'm not property, of anyone's estate. This isn't right. I'm... my name is Jared Padalecki. I've got parents who are probably worried sick. I've got a little sister. I need to go back to them.”

Henrik sighed. “The continuing good health of your parents and your sister is contingent upon your good behaviour in your new position. Do you understand?”

Jared reeled. “You... you're going to kill my family, if I don't follow your rules?!”

“You'd have to show very severe misbehaviour, for a prolonged period, for that to happen, but yes, it is a possibility. For a lesser infraction, we might simply take your sister and install her at one of the... houses of ill repute, in the city. For a length of time proportional to the severity of your transgressions.”

Jared gasped, disbelieving. “She's _fourteen_.” 

Henrik nodded. “Some will pay handsomely for that.”

Jared thought he would vomit. Henrik pulled something out of his pocket – a tape measure.

“I must measure your throat, for your new collar.”

Jared recoiled. “I'm not a dog, I'm not wearing a collar.”

Henrik walked towards him. “You will. You'll discover fairly quickly that it will be the primary method of controlling your behaviour.”

Jared scooted backwards on the bed, until his back hit the wall. “No.”

Henrik sighed. “You'll also discover that young Master Ackles has a very low tolerance for misbehaviour. As does his father. I'll advise you now not to use that word when you're with them.” Henrik's arm shot out and snagged one of Jared's ankles, and Jared felt the familiar pinch.

_So much for breakfast._

 

*

 

When Jared woke he was lying flat on his narrow bed again. There was a tight band of leather against his throat. It wasn't painful, but Jared felt the constriction every time he swallowed. Jared ran his hands around the leather band, finding a complicated locking mechanism, and some sort of... metal casing, sitting square in the back of his neck, over his spine.

No one was in his room this time. He glanced over, and saw the food tray on the night stand. He picked it up carefully, setting it on the bed before him. There was condensation on the sides of the glasses of milk and juice, which meant this was a new tray, and not the one from this morning.

Jared placed the linen napkin in his lap. The fork and butter knife were nicer than any he'd ever seen, heavy and ornate. He lifted the dome off the plate. Under it was a club sandwich and a fresh salad. Two small ceramic dishes offered different dressings.

Jared picked up a piece of the sandwich, and tried it. _Good lord, that's good._ The turkey was moist and delicious, the bacon crisp, and the lettuce and tomato very fresh. He scarfed the entire thing. He dipped a finger into the dressings, finding ranch and Italian. He poured the Italian over the crisp greens, and ate every morsel of the salad, as well. He drank the milk and the juice, and put the tray back on the nightstand.

It wasn't even five minutes before the door opened, and Henrik walked in. “I trust your lunch was satisfactory?”

Jared nodded.

“I'm sorry to tell you that I must demonstrate how your collar works, so that you'll know what to expect. Would you be so kind as to stand, please?” Henrik stood in the middle of the room.

Jared hesitantly got to his feet, beside his bed. He peeked nervously up at Henrik through his hair. He had some sort of black box in his hand, like a small remote control.

“The collar has several settings. The first few are simply warnings.” Jared felt a strange tingle at the back of his neck. He frowned. It stopped, and restarted a little more intensely, it almost felt like small pins. The third one stung a little.

“The other settings are for punishment.” Jared felt a sharp jolt of pain, and his knees wobbled. It took his breath away. He gasped for a moment, before an even harder shot from the collar nailed him, and he crumpled to his knees, dazed.

“Sorry about this.” The next button that Henrik pushed made Jared scream and pitch forward, fingers scrabbling against the hardwood. Jared's eyes filled with tears, on his hands and knees before Henrik.

“There is one higher setting.” Jared cowered. “It will cause excruciating pain, enough to render you unconscious in short order. Do you need me to demonstrate it?”

Jared gasped, “No! No, please.” Jared got shakily to his feet, pulling himself back up onto the bed.

Henrik nodded. “The collar will be your primary tool of reprimand. It is swift, non-damaging and non-lethal. Your master may choose, however, to punish you in other manners, as well.”

Henrik waited for Jared to nod.

“Be warned that every member of the staff carries one of these control boxes, and any one of them may punish you at their own discretion.”

Jared nodded again.

“There may be times when your masters do not wish you to speak. In that instance, the collar will be rigged to shock you if you should try. Every successive attempt at speech will automatically increase the severity of the shock. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“You will refer to the members of the staff, including myself and Erik, as Sir or Ma'am. You will refer to young Master Ackles as Master, and his father as Master, as well.”

Jared sat, silently obstinate. _I don't care who they are, I'm not calling_ anyone _Master._

There was a painful jolt from the collar, and Jared yelped. “Y-yes! I understand.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

There was another, equally painful jolt. Jared gritted his teeth and looked up at Henrik, confused, his eyes beginning to water again.

“'Yes, _Sir._ I understand, _Sir._ '” Henrik spoke softly.

“Y-yes, Sir. I... I understand. Sir.” Jared's cheeks flushed in humiliation.

Henrik smiled down at him, and picked up his lunch tray before leaving the room.

 

*

 

Jared was lying on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling when Henrik came back into his room. Jared sat up warily.

“Young Master Ackles wishes to see you before dinner. I will take you to him. Come.” Henrik moved to the door. 

Jared got up to follow him, the hardwood cool under his bare feet. As Jared neared the door, Henrik spoke again.

“I will warn you. If you misbehave, or try to run, you will be leashed, and you will be crawling, rather than walking, down these hallways. Try to maintain a modicum of dignity. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” Henrik nodded, and led Jared down the hallway. The carpet was incredibly plush and soft. The hallway seemed to twist and turn and branch, and without Henrik there, he knew he'd never find his way back to his own room. _How big is this place??_

They stopped before a set of carved oak double doors. Henrik whispered to Jared. “Keep your gaze down. I'd suggest on Master's feet. Do not make eye contact.” Jared swallowed hard as Henrik knocked politely on the door.

There was a pause, and the door on the left was pulled open. Jared's gazed lifted reflexively, and he gasped.

It was _Jensen_.

Jensen grinned at Jared for a long moment, staring at him, before a vicious shock from the collar made Jared come to his senses and finally drop his gaze. Jared flushed pink, staring at Jensen's feet.

“Thanks, Henrik, I'll buzz you when I'm finished.”

“Of course, Sir.” Henrik bowed, and left. 

“Come in.” Jensen gestured inside the room. Jared entered slowly.

Jensen's room was amazing. It was huge, a large sitting area separated from the bedroom with french doors. There was a couch and a pair of loveseats, surrounding the largest television Jared had ever seen, above a variety of gaming systems. There were at least two laptop computers in the clutter on the coffee table. There were endless bookshelves filled with movies, games, books, and gadgets. Huge windows overlooked rolling grounds, and more french doors opened onto a spacious balcony. A desk near the window held a computer with a massive screen, currently showing some sort of psychedelic screensaver. The floors were the same dark hardwood as in Jared's room, but covered with scattered plush rugs. 

Jared gaped. 

“I'm guessing you like it.” Jensen smirked at him, before walking over and flopping down on the couch. “Come over here and kneel for me.”

 _What??_ Jared balked. He felt the collar give him a warning – sharp pain at the back of his neck. He forced himself forward a few steps, stiffly, before stopping again. Pain slammed through him, dropping him to his knees with a gasp.

“Okay, be that way. _Crawl_ over here, and kneel for me.”

Jared, burning with humiliation, crawled to where Jensen was sitting, and knelt before him, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor, his teeth gritted.

“Take off your shirt.”

“You listen to me, you little shit. You fucking let me go...” Jared howled as agonizing pain tore though him, bringing him to his hands and knees, hunched over, tears spilling from his eyes. He gasped on the floor for a few moments, before feeling a hand sink into his hair, pulling his face up.

Jensen's emerald eyes were wide when they met Jared's hazel, tear-filled ones. That same smirk from school crossed Jensen's face. “I'm thinking you ought to apologize for that.”

“Fuck you!” Jared gasped. Jensen let go of his hair.

The agonizing pain started again, and it didn't stop - _it didn't stop_. Jared's screams rose in pitch until they were nearly a shriek. Suddenly, the pain vanished. Jared sobbed uncontrollably. He managed to choke out, “I... I'm sorry!”

“Pretty sure Henrik would've told you how to address me properly, and that the phrase 'you little shit' wasn't anywhere in his lesson.”

Jared panted, his forehead against the floor. “M-Master. I... I'm sorry, M-Master.” Jared trembled, his body drenched in sweat.

“Better! Now, take off your shirt.”

Jared only hesitated for a heartbeat, but it was enough for Jensen to give him a warning tap from the collar. He sat up slowly, keeping his gaze on the floor, and pulled the tunic up and over his head. Jared shivered a little as the cool air touched his sweat-slick skin. He moved to cross his arms, but Jensen's hands pushed them gently to his sides.

 _This fucking punk. I'm going to slaughter him and his entire family. I don't even care if I go to jail for the rest of my life, he's going to pay for this..._ Jared sat absolutely still and silent, railing at Jensen in his mind. He had no idea what Jensen was doing, as Jared's eyes were fixed firmly on the floor.

“You're gorgeous. Beautiful. I can't wait to show you off to my friends.” Cool fingertips tilted Jared's face up, but Jared kept his eyes down. Jensen brushed Jared's hair back, out of his eyes, and he tilted Jared's face back and forth, as though examining him. Jared grit his teeth and said nothing.

“And you're so _angry_. I can _taste_ it.” Jensen's smile was wolfish. “Do you know why I picked you, Jared?”

Jared stayed silent. _I will murder you in your sleep._

“It was because you dared to challenge me, in the hall. I will _beat_ the challenge out of you, Jared.”

As Jared's heart leapt into his throat, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Jensen shouted, sounding, for all the world, just like any other teenager.

“It's me, son.”

“Come in, Dad.”

The door opened and heavy footsteps crossed the room. “So this is your new boy, then?”

“Gorgeous, isn't he? Just transferred in a few weeks ago.” Jensen gripped Jared's chin, tilting his head up for Jensen's father to inspect. Jared looked up at the man without thinking. He was handsome, for an older man, with the same green eyes his son had. There was salt-and-pepper in his dark hair and beard.

The older man chuckled, his eyes glinting. “Needs some lessons in manners, your new boy does.” Jared hastily looked down and away.

“He'll figure it out. Or I'll just _encourage_ him until he does.” Jensen's voice was hard, and the word 'encourage' was accompanied by a nasty shock of pain from the collar. Jared whimpered.

“Well, enough playing for now, dinner's almost ready. If you're bringing him to dinner, make sure he puts a shirt on first.” Jensen's father turned and left the room.

“What do you think, Jared? Do you want to kneel by my chair and eat your dinner from my hand, or do you want to return to your room and eat there?”

“M-my room.” _There is_ no way _I'm eating food from your hands, you bastard._

“Ask politely.” Jensen snapped.

“Please. I'd like to eat my dinner in my room. P-please.”

A vicious jolt from the collar, and Jared caught his yelp behind his teeth.

“P-please, M-Master.” _You son of a bitch._

Henrik arrived shortly afterwards, scooping up Jared's tunic and leading him through the maze of hallways back to his room. There was another silver tray waiting for him, on his nightstand, bearing a glass of water and the silver dome.

Henrik stood just inside the door, as Jared lifted the dome off the plate. Jared dropped the dome in shock.

There was a round metal dog food bowl, filled roughly half-way with what looked, for all the world, like dog food.

“Those pellets, while bland, are completely nutritionally sound as a meal replacement. You'll be served them when your behaviour has been lacking, or if you refuse the opportunity to dine with your master.” Henrik offered an explanation.

Jared bit his lip.

“If your behaviour improves, you will be fed by the in-house chef, whose work you had for lunch. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” Jared stared at his bowl of pellets.

Henrik was half-way out the door when he spoke again. “They are very dry, so be sure to drink ample water.” The door closed softly behind him.

 _You have got to be fucking kidding me._ Jared picked up a kibble, examining it critically before popping it into his mouth. He crunched it. It tasted vaguely like unsweetened oatmeal.

 _I'd rather be in here, eating this, than kneeling at Jerkwad's feet, eating filet mignon,_ Jared thought with satisfaction. He threw a pellet up in the air, catching it in his mouth.

He had to admit, though, that after half of the bowl was gone, the the unrelenting, drab dryness was getting to him. He thought longingly of that club sandwich he had for lunch.

 _No. No way am I giving him the satisfaction._ Jared forced himself to finish the rest of the pellets in the bowl, and had to refill his glass twice from the bathroom sink.

Jared lay flat on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, and wondered what they were having for dinner downstairs. He wished he had a window.


	2. Chapter 2

Henrik returned, a few hours later. Jared had showered, and was towelling off his hair. He reluctantly admitted that the shower products smelled amazing. He didn't think his hair had ever felt this soft.

“Your master requests your presence.”

 _He can kiss my ass, is what he can do._ Jared nodded mutely, throwing the towel in the hamper. He followed Henrik wordlessly through the halls to Jensen's room.

Henrik knocked politely, opened the door, and ushered Jared through, closing the door quietly behind him.

Jared stood at the door, staring at the floor.

“Come here.” Jensen called from the couch. There was a movie playing on the huge television.

Jared walked to Jensen, standing beside him, so as not to block his view of the movie. 

“Come and sit on my lap. Straddle my legs, facing me.” Jensen's eyes never left the screen.

Jared took a deep breath and seated himself across Jensen's lap, his hands balled into fists against his thighs.

“Shirt off.” Jared pulled his tunic up and over his head.

“Damn, you smell good.” Jensen put his hands on Jared's shoulders, and pulled him in against his chest. Jared stiffened against him. Jensen buried his head into the crook of Jared's neck. He wrapped his arms around Jared's waist. His hands were hot against Jared's cool skin.

“I know that you know that I got my car for my sixteenth birthday.” Jensen's voice was muffled. “You know what else I got?”

“N-no.”

“You.” Jensen pulled his head back to stare into Jared's eyes. “I got you. My father told me to pick someone as a body slave. He got one when he was sixteen, too. Do you know what a body slave is?”

Jared shook his head, no.

“It means that you're here to please me, in any way that I want. Sexually.”

Jared froze. _What the flying fuck._ He stared at Jensen, not believing what he was hearing.

“So, if I tell you to get on your knees, and suck my cock, that means you get on your knees, and suck my cock.” Jensen was perfectly calm, while Jared was certain that his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“N-no. That's rape.” Jared said, blankly.

“You're a body slave now, Jared. It's what you _do_. It's what you're _for_.” Jared felt the gentlest tingle across the back of his neck.

“N-no.” Jared frowned. “I'm... I'm a senior at North Park high. I'm going to _Stanford_. I'm going to study law...”

Horrific pain tore through Jared, and he screamed, crumpling forward against Jensen. The pain stopped, and Jared lay gasping, trying to catch his breath.

“You don't go to school any more. I do, but you don't. You're not going to college next year. You're not studying anything, and certainly not law. You're going to live here, in this house, and serve me. Okay?” Jensen ran his hand up Jared's back.

“N-no!”

And there it was – the final setting on the collar. Jared's vision whited out, and he screamed himself hoarse. His bones felt like they were on fire, and he was sure his head had split in two. Jared was peripherally aware of being pushed, and falling. His screams dwindled into gurgles as the darkness swallowed him.

 

*

 

When Jared woke, he was sprawled on the floor before Jensen's couch. Jensen was watching another movie, stuffing his face with popcorn. 

Jared groaned, clutching a hand to his head.

“Get up here. As you were.” Jensen's voice was clipped.

Jared got to his knees, and climbed weakly across Jensen's lap, one hand still clutching his head. Jensen rested his hands loosely on Jared's hips, the popcorn forgotten.

“So. Are you going to Stanford next fall, Jared?” Jensen looked up at him, all bright curiosity, a dark hardness in his eyes.

“N-no...”

”No, what??” Jensen snarled.

“N-no, M-Master.” Jared didn't think he could handle another jolt from the collar.

“You're going to stay here, and please me, aren't you, Jared?”

“Y-yes, Master.” _My fucking head feels like it's going to explode._

“And you're going to be as pleasing as you can be, right, Jared? You don't want to go on punishment, do you?”

 _Punishment? What the hell does that mean?_ “Y-yes...” Jared whimpered.

Jensen pulled Jared close, and whispered. “Punishment is a tiny, cold cell. No clothes. There's no light, no food, no water, no facilities. Pitch black. You piss me off, and I throw you in there to rot, until I think you've learned your lesson.”

 _Oh, God._ Jared shuddered in Jensen's arms. He'd never been really, _truly_ afraid of the dark, but it always made him... antsy. Uneasy. Usually, the light from an uncurtained window, or from a hallway was enough. But if it was truly pitch black, like it was in his new room, he slept with the light on.

“Are you scared of the dark, Jared? That's a shame. Guess you'll have to be _extra_ good, lest I throw you in there.” Jensen's voice was saccharine sweet.

Jared felt Jensen's hands slide up and down his back, coming to rest on the waist of his pants.

Jared waited, his body thrumming with tension.

“How's your gag reflex, Jared?”

“M-my what?”

“Your gag reflex. How easily do you take a cock into your throat?”

Jared choked and blushed. “I... I've never...”

“Really! That's interesting. So your ass is virgin, too, I'm guessing?”

Jared blushed a deeper red.

Jensen threw back his head and laughed. “Nice! I picked a virgin. Now, your holes are only ever going to belong to me.” Jensen grinned up at Jared, who was looking decidedly unwell.

Jared tried to force the words out, not sure if he was going to be punished for them. “F-for... how long? How long do I have to do this? M-Master?” He tacked the honorific on the end, in a bid not to be shocked by the collar.

Jensen shrugged and reached for another handful of popcorn. “Until I get tired of you. Trade you in for a new model.” He stuffed the popcorn in his mouth and winked at Jared.

Jared thought he might just vomit on the spot.

“But it's nothing you need to worry about. Not for a long time.” Jensen trailed one butter-slick finger down the middle of Jared's chest. “Not if you stay as pretty as you are now.”

Jared suppressed his shudder.

“So!” Jensen slapped a hand against Jared's butt, and Jared jumped. “How about we test your gag reflex? You go ahead and go lie on the bed, on your back, with your head hanging off the foot of the bed, okay? I'll be in in a minute.”

Jared climbed off slowly, shivering. He walked to the french doors leading to the bedroom, and opened them. There were beautiful windows in the bedroom, too, filled with the evening sky. The walls were deep green, and the carpet was very soft. The bed was messily made, sheets, pillows and blankets in shades of cream and charcoal. The furniture was wood stained nearly black. There was a large ensuite bathroom, with what looked like a jacuzzi tub, and an even larger walk-in closet.

Jared perched on the edge of the bed, and touched the blankets. They were unbelievably soft. He climbed up, as the bed was quite tall, turning to face the headboard, before lying down as instructed, with his head hanging off the end of the bed.

He had an excellent, if upside-down, view of Jensen eating popcorn and watching his movie.

Jensen glanced over at him. “Open your mouth. And keep it open.”

Jared swallowed hard, and opened his mouth, closing his eyes.

When Jensen spoke again, he was much, much closer. “Well, doesn't that just look perfectly inviting.” Jared's eyes flickered open, and directly in front of his face was Jensen's not-insubstantial hard cock.

Jared's breath caught in his throat.

Jensen angled his cock towards Jared's mouth. “Just keep your lips over your teeth, keep your mouth open, and try to relax your throat, okay?”

Jared clamped his mouth shut, and tried to sit up.

 _“No.”_ Jensen dragged Jared back into position by his hair. “Open your mouth.”

Jared refused. He was shocked hard enough to make him cry out, and Jensen used the opportunity to ram his cock into Jared's mouth.

“That's better.” Jensen's shaft filled Jared's mouth, and he whimpered around it. Jensen moaned softly and pushed just a little harder, aiming for Jared's throat.

Jared coughed and gagged, trying to twist his head away. Jensen's hands framed Jared's face, preventing him from moving. The control for Jared's collar was pressed into his right cheek.

“Relax. Let me in.” Jensen pushed a little harder still, and Jared swallowed reflexively, the tip of Jensen's cock lodged in his throat.

“Oh, God, yes.” Jensen slid the last bit of his cock into Jared's mouth. “Look at you, taking it all.”

Jared choked again, trying to breathe and unable to. He lifted his arms, trying to push Jensen off. Jensen slapped his arms away, and gave him a warning jolt through the collar.

“Holy fuck, I felt that in my dick...” Jensen hit the collar's remote over and over again, the painful prickle repeating against the back of Jared's neck. Jensen came in a rush, pulling back to fill Jared's mouth with his come.

Jared hacked and spluttered, gasping for air. Somehow, Jared managed to spit come all down the front of Jensen's expensive jeans and on the carpet.

Jensen looked down, shocked at the sight of his own come all over himself. Jared was still hacking and coughing, catching his breath.

“Our... our first time together, and _that's_ what you do with my come?!” Jensen sounded flabbergasted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Jensen pressed a single button. “Henrik. Come get Jared, he's on punishment.” There was a pause. “I don't know. It depends on how long it takes him to learn. And get the maid up here.” Jensen glared down at Jared.

Henrik was there moments later, pulling Jared off the bed with a powerful grip on Jared's upper arm. Jensen said not one more word to Jared, nor did Henrik, as he pulled Jared down at least two flights of stairs, into a basement. He stopped before a blank metal door.

Henrik pushed Jared against the door, and held him there with a hand against his throat, as his other hand yanked the drawstring of Jared's pants loose. They pooled around Jared's feet.

Henrik gave Jared a long look. “Begging might help,” he whispered, shoving Jared hard in the back. Jared crashed to his knees in the middle of the empty cell, and the door slammed shut behind him with an echoing bang.

Jensen had been right. It was small, and cold, and pitch black. He had scraped his knees on the concrete floor when he had landed. The walls were the same rough, unfinished concrete. In the brief flash of light that he had before the door slammed shut, Jared saw that there was no furniture, no toilet, no water, no lights, no windows.

Jared shivered. _Begging might help..._ Did that mean the cell was monitored, like his bedroom was? An infrared camera, maybe? Jared looked around, hoping for the telltale flashing red dot, but there was nothing. He sat on his butt, drawing his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them, trying to conserve some warmth. He rested his forehead against his knees.

“Please, please, M-Master, I'm sorry.” His voice echoed strangely in the empty cell. “I'm sorry.” Jared started to cry, sobbing softly.

Eventually his tears tapered off to sniffles and whimpers. “M-Master. P-please. I'm so sorry. P-please, don't leave me here.”

Jared didn't know that the cameras picked up every word, every motion. And that he was being so very, very closely watched.

 

*

 

Jared woke, disoriented in the absolute darkness, forgetting for a moment where he was. The feel of the rough concrete against his skin brought it back pretty quickly. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, so he had no idea how long he was out for.

The one thing he did know was that he had to pee, quite urgently. _Do I... do I just go on the floor??_

Soon enough, his bladder made the decision for him. He decided to use the corner of the room farthest from the door as his... washroom corner. He relieved himself, and retreated as far from it as he could, huddling in the corner nearest to where the door would eventually open.

The smell was ghastly in the tiny, enclosed space. Jared whispered, “Please, please, Sir... M-Master... please, anyone... I'm... I'm sorry...” Jared burst into tears again. “P-please...” Jared begged between sobs. “I'm... I'm so thirsty... p-please...”

Jared had no idea how long it had been since he had had a drink. It felt like forever since his glasses of water with his pellets. Thinking about the bone-dryness of the pellets only seemed to make matters worse. 

Several more hours passed, and there was no change, except for Jared needing water more desperately. He tried knocking on the door, he tried banging on the door. He tried begging, and screaming, and crying, and nothing worked. No one came.

 _Maybe... maybe there's something they're waiting for me to say..._ Jared's thoughts whirled. _If I say the right thing, they'll let me out... open sesame!_ Jared giggled uncontrollably. _But, but seriously..._ Jared tried to force his sluggish brain to cooperate.

 _'That's what you do with my come?!'_ echoed through Jared's head. “I... I'm sorry, so sorry, that I spit... that I spit out your c-come, M-Master. I... I d-didn't mean to. I-I couldn't breathe...” Jared refocused, thinking that they probably didn't want excuses. “I... I'm so sorry that I did that, and r-ruined our f-first time. I sh-should have s-swallowed it down, M-Master. I didn't mean to d-dirty your jeans, or the carpet. I'm so, so sorry.” Jared whimpered, licking dry lips.

Jared rested his head against his knees and waited. Still, nothing happened. _I guess my theory wasn't all that great after all._ He kept on trying anyway.

Jared whispered, over and over, “I'm so sorry... so sorry... I promise I'll n-never do that again... M-Master, please... I-I'll swallow, I promise, Master, I'm so sorry, so sorry...” Jared had to use his corner to relieve himself again, cringing in disgust as the smell worsened.

“Please, please, please... I won't ever spit again... M-Master... I'll swallow, I promise, I'm so sorry...” Jared fell into an uneasy sleep, his whispers dying on his tongue.

 

*

 

Jared woke, hunched into a ball in the corner of his foul-smelling concrete cell. There was no question in his mind where he was, or why he was there. His mouth was foul, dry and sticky. His head was killing him. He wanted to continue to beg forgiveness, but his throat was so very, very dry. He wanted to cry, but his eyes wouldn't produce tears. He hugged his legs tighter and rocked himself back and forth.

“P-please.” Jared coughed weakly, his voice a raspy whisper. “Please, Master, please. I'm so sorry...” Jared sobbed dryly into his own knees.

Suddenly the door opened to the hallway, flooding the cell with light, and searing Jared's eyes. He covered his face, cowering away from it. 

“Come.” Henrik's voice. Henrik strode into the cell and picked Jared up, as though he weighed nothing. Jared whimpered and kept his eyes shut as tight as he could. Jared managed to pry one eye open, and watched a succession of hallways pass. Henrik stopped before a glossy wooden door, knocked, and entered, Jared still in his arms.

It looked like a small doctor's office. Henrik deposited him on a narrow, paper-covered examination table, nodded to the woman in the white coat, and walked out.

 _She has a kind face. I hope she doesn't hurt me,_ Jared thought abstractedly.

The woman looked down at him, shook her head, and made a tsking noise. “What did you do, boy?”

Jared flushed bright red.

“Ah. Well. We're going to give you some intravenous fluids, some vitamins and nutrients, all right? You just lay there.” She gave Jared a small cup of cool water. “You can sip that, but not too much, all right? I don't need you vomiting on me.”

Jared lifted his head to drink, and the first tiny sip of water was a godsend. He didn't even feel the IV go in. The treatment took some time, but after it was over, Jared was feeling much better. His head didn't hurt so much, and he wasn't as weak and exhausted.

“T-thank you, Ma'am.” Jared passed the empty paper cup back to her.

“You remember what you did, all right? And don't do it again. It wasn't so bad, this time around. Next time, it'll be worse. You hear me?” Jared's eyes widened, and he nodded mutely. _How could that possibly have been worse?!_

Henrik reappeared to take him back to his room. He was embarrassed, walking through the hallways naked, but they didn't encounter anyone. They entered his room, which seemed a palace after the concrete cell.

“Shower, shave, and brush your teeth, before you get dressed. Some food should be waiting for you, by the time you're finished.” Henrik turned and left.

Jared was grateful for the shower, glad to get the concrete dust and the smell from the cell off of him. He stayed in the shower for a long time, before towelling off, shaving, and brushing his teeth. When he emerged, sure enough, there was a silver food tray on the nightstand. There were two glasses, milk and what appeared to be apple juice.

He paused for a moment with his hand on the lid of the silver dome. _Please, please, no kibbles..._ He removed it, and sighed with relief. Plain toast, and some chicken noodle soup.

He ate the delicious soup, and the toast, and drank everything he was given. He was feeling full, and warm, and sleepy. He pulled on some fresh clothes, set the tray aside, and curled up under his blankets, leaving the light on.

It would be a while before he would be ready to turn it off again.

 

*

 

It took Henrik shaking his shoulder to wake him the following morning. “Up. Your master requires your services. Brush your teeth, have some water, and come with me.” Henrik waited impatiently while Jared prepared himself.

The two men walked silently through the hallways. Judging by the quality of the light, it seemed to be early morning.

Henrik knocked, and pushed Jared through the door. Jared stood trembling just inside the room. His eyes were on the floor.

“I'm going to hold you to those promises, Jared. The ones you made to the darkness.” Jensen's voice was soft as he walked up to stand in front of Jared. Jared stared at Jensen's bare feet. Gentle fingers tucked Jared's hair behind his ear. “Do you know how long a human being can last, on average, with no water, Jared?”

“Th-three days, M-Master.” Jared whispered.

“Indeed. And do you know how long you were in there for?”

“N-no, Master.”

“Twenty four hours. Only twenty-four hours. That's not so bad, is it, Jared?”

“N-no, Master.” Jared swallowed hard.

“Next time, it'll be double that, okay?” Jensen's voice was soft, as if he were trying to calm a spooked horse.

Jared choked, panicking. _That was what she meant, when she said it wasn't so bad._

“Hey, hey, it's okay.” Jensen grasped Jared's shoulders and squeezed. “If you're my good boy, you don't ever need to worry about going back there again. You're going to be good, right?”

Jared's breathing was fast and shallow, every muscle in his body on lockdown. There was a sharp snap of pain from the collar, which seemed to knock him out of it.

“You're going to be _good_ , right??” Jensen asked, a little more slowly.

Jared nodded, “Y-yes, yes, Master.”

“All right.” Jensen took a step backwards. “Lose the shirt, get back on the bed, and let's try this again.”

Jensen's sheets were every bit as soft as the first time against Jared's bare back. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. _Whatever you do, don't fucking spit. Hold your breath and swallow. Just hold your breath and swallow._

Jared repeated his mantra over and over again, as Jensen shoved first into his mouth, and then into his throat. He whimpered as Jensen hit the warning on the collar, over and over, just as he had done last time.

“Jesus, the fucking mouth on you...” Jensen moaned, pulled back a little and filled Jared's mouth with come. Jensen pulled out, and looked down at Jared's mouth, still open. Jared breathed heavily through his nose, his eyes clenched tightly shut.

“Look at me, Jared.” Jensen sounded a little overwhelmed. Jared pried his eyes open to watch Jensen's flicker between Jared's eyes and mouth. “Is... is it good? Do you like it?”

Jared nodded, just barely, his eyes still on Jensen. _It's slimy and bitter and salty and disgusting, and you'll dehydrate me and starve me for two days if I say otherwise. I'll die a fucking raisin in that cell, if I tell you the truth._

“Swallow, Jared.”

Jared let the revolting mess slide down his throat, barely suppressing his shudder of disgust.

“Good boy.” Jensen touched Jared's cheek. “Get up. Do you want to watch a movie, or play some Xbox?”

Jared sat up, shaky. His mouth had that foul flavour in it again, the one he had associated with the cell. Jensen had walked to the couch and thrown himself on it. Jared followed a little more slowly. He was just about to sit beside Jensen when Jensen snorted.

“You don't sit on my furniture. You kneel, on the floor.” Jensen pointed at a spot in between his sprawled legs. “You were good, this time, so you can sit on your butt, if you want, instead of kneeling.”

Jared had just settled, curled in between Jensen's legs, when Jensen's phone rang. “Hey, Mish, what's up?” There was a pause while Jensen listened.

“Yeah, it's been pretty rough, he's already been on punishment. Just got off last night. He's been better, today. You wanna bring Jimmy and come over and see him?”

 _Misha and Jimmy, twins, two of Jensen's inner circle at school. Oh, God..._ Jared shivered. Jensen ran a hand through Jared's hair, in what he probably thought was a soothing gesture.

Jensen laughed, “Nah, man, I ain't saying you can _use_ him. Not yet, anyway. Come over, I'll kick both your asses at Mario Kart.” There was another pause. “Okay, see you after lunch. Later.” Jensen hung up the phone.

Jared's heart was pounding in his chest again. _'Not yet, anyway.'?? Did that mean Jensen was going to let other people..._ Jared lurched to his feet and made a run for Jensen's ensuite, vomiting violently once he got there, shaking in front of the toilet, his eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, whoah, whoah!” Jensen trailed after Jared, into the bathroom. “What's all this about?” Jensen leaned against the vanity, staring down at Jared, who was shaking and crying on the floor.

Jared braced his head against his arm. This was all so unfair. One glance in the hallway at school, and his life had been ruined. And now, Jensen wanted to, what, whore him out to his friends?

“Y-you can't.”

Jensen blinked. “I'm sorry, what??”

Jared's voice got a little stronger. “You... you can't... wh-whore me out. I'm... I'm not...”

The bolt of pain from the collar knocked the air out of Jared. He collapsed to the floor, wheezing. Jensen crouched down to speak in his ear. “You're whatever I tell you to be. If I want to whore you out, I will. If I want to watch you take Misha and Jimmy's cocks up your ass at the same time, while I choke you with mine, I will. You're whatever I fucking tell you to be. Understand?”

Jared shook his head weakly. “N-not a whore.”

Jensen's thumb hovered over that final setting on the collar's remote. “Last fucking chance, Jared, to change your tune.”

“Not a whore,” Jared whispered, and then he knew pain, endless pain, and nothing more.


	3. Chapter 3

Jensen's father came in to Jensen's room, while Jared was still passed out on the bathroom floor. He held some papers in his hand, and frowned at his son.

“Jen, you know I get a report every time you trigger Jared's collar, right?”

Jensen spoke around a mouthful of Cool Ranch Doritos. “He's mine, I can do what I want with him.”

His father frowned down at the paper. “What's with triggering a level three warning twelve times in ten seconds?” He flipped to the next page. “Twice?”

“Had my cock in his throat. The tingle from the collar feels _amazing_ , Dad.”

“Jesus, Jensen, that's not what the collar is for. Stop doing that.”

Jensen frowned up at his father.

“And twice, now, you've used level seven? Twice, he's misbehaved so badly that you felt you needed to render him unconscious?” The senior Ackles glanced at the still form on the floor of the ensuite, the boy's dark hair spread across the white tiles.

“Yep.” Jensen said, unconcerned, stuffing more Doritos into his mouth.

“Level seven is traditionally used for escape attempts. Attacks. Things of that nature. You know this. Are you telling me that boy attacked you?”

“No.” Jensen swallowed hugely. “He just wasn't listening. I told him I was going to whore him out to my friends, and...” 

“ _Jesus_ , Jensen! The boy was free, three days ago. Do you think you could possibly give him some time to get used to the idea of servicing _you_ , before throwing your friends into the mix? Did you think maybe you overwhelmed him?”

Jensen looked thoughtful. “Maybe... maybe I did.”

“Yes, son, you did.” Jensen's father ran a hand back through his hair, looking exasperated. “No more talk of sharing him with your friends, all right? No more level three blowjobs, and no more knocking him unconscious for panicking and not listening, all right?”

“Jeez, Dad, all right!” Jensen raised his hands in surrender.

“Do you need me to take over his training?”

“No! No, I'll be fine. I hear ya.” Jensen sank back into his sofa and sulked.

“You had better, or I _will_ take him away from you.”

Jensen crunched himself further into the couch, and said nothing.

His father left the room.

 

*

 

Jared came to with a soft groan and a splitting headache. He heard laughter, through the open doorways to the living area. He pulled himself to his feet, used the facilities, washed his hands, and gulped some water after rinsing his mouth. He pulled on his discarded shirt, before slowly making his way to the living room area, where voices were shouting and cheering.

“Man, you fucking _cheat!!_ ” One of the twins threw an elbow at Jensen's ribs.

“I do not, you just suck.” Jensen threw a Dorito and hit the boy in the face.

“Whatever, man, look, I _know_ you cheat. You give us the crap controllers, and keep the good one for yourself.” The second twin paused, glancing at the doorway to the bedroom, where Jared stood hesitantly. “Look, Sleeping Beauty's up.”

Misha and Jimmy were very handsome, with dark hair and striking blue eyes, and completely identical. They had a more rugged, less feminine look than Jensen himself did. _'Misha and Jimmy's cocks up your ass at the same time...'_ Jared clutched at the doorframe for support.

“Come here, then.” Jensen pointed at the floor between his spread legs. Jensen seemed annoyed at Jared, though Jared couldn't fathom what he had done while he was unconscious. He moved gingerly to sit between Jensen's legs, moving to curl up like he had before.

“Kneel.” Jared jumped at Jensen's tone, and shifted to his knees, wincing as the fabric of his pants dug into the raw spots on his knees. He felt the scrapes open, dampening his pants with blood. Jared knelt with his head bent.

“So you chose a senior, huh?” The twin on Jensen's left looked at Jared. “What're you gonna do with him, when you go away to college?”

“Yale's got... special dorm rooms, for a very select clientele, Mish.” Jensen smirked at his friend. “He'll be coming with me.”

Jared was suddenly dizzy. _Go... with Jensen, to Yale?? But that meant... years..._ Jared's heart pounded in his chest.

Jimmy piped up from Jensen's other side. “You sure you won't let us have a go with him? I'm dying to try that electric blowjob you were describing.” He looked at Jared and licked his lips.

“No, Jimmy. Not now, and maybe not ever, okay? Jared's _mine_.” Jensen's tone was so firm that it made it very clear that the subject was closed.

“Does he talk, Jen, or did your Dad have his vocal chords cut?” Misha asked curiously.

 _Vocal... vocal chords cut...?_ Jared began to hyperventilate, and everything around him seemed to gray out.

“No, he can talk. He just doesn't do it a lot. He's still adjusting.”

Jared was so still that none of the boys noticed that he was having a panic attack until he slumped against Jensen's leg, unconscious.

“What the hell, man?” Jensen touched the top of Jared's head lightly.

Misha snagged the Doritos. “I dunno. Does he do that a lot? Maybe he's got some kind of, like, condition.”

Jensen frowned down at Jared. “Nah, man, our Doc ran a full screen, when he got here. Everything came back fine.”

Jimmy shrugged and grabbed for Jensen's controller. “I call dibs on the good one for next round, let's see if it's the reason you keep on beating us.”

“I'm telling you, the reason I'm beating you is because _you both suck.”_

The three boys returned to their game, ignoring the fourth, unconscious on the floor.

 

*

 

The twins were gone, and Jared woke as Jensen was preparing to go for dinner.

“I'm guessing you'll want to eat in your room?” Jensen looked sulky.

“P-please, Master, c-could I eat with you?” Jared kept his eyes on the floor. _That kibble is disgusting._

Jensen was somewhat taken aback. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Let's go.” Jensen led Jared through the house, to a large, formal dining room. There were three place settings at a table which could have seated twenty. There was one at the head, and one to its left, and the one beside that. The third setting, however, was missing a chair. “You kneel here.” Jensen pointed to where the chair was missing. Jensen sat in the chair beside him, as Jared knelt facing him, his head low. _I can't believe I'm doing this._

Jensen's father entered, and he nodded to his son before taking his seat at the head of the table. Shortly, a series of maids came out, pouring wine and water, serving soup and salad. They delicately stepped around Jared, whose cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment. 

Jared felt a tap on his cheek, and his eyes flickered open. Jensen's hand was before his face, offering him a bite-sized piece of soft-looking bun. Jared took it carefully with his teeth. _Holy hell, even the_ buns _are that good._ He lifted his head a little, eager for the next bite.

“Jensen, quit stuffing your face, and feed your boy.” Jensen's father snapped at him, and for once, it was Jensen's turn to flush. Jensen grabbed a small plate, threw some salad on it, and presented it to Jared, along with a fork.

“Eat.” Jensen mumbled.

Jared took the fork and plate carefully, and ate, savouring the freshness and flavour. It was clear to Jared that this salad hadn't come out of a plastic bag from the grocery store.

Next were tiny bowls of sorbet, but Jensen didn't share. 

The main course was salmon with a rich sauce, and Jensen fed Jared several bites from his own fork. 

The maids brought out plates of cubed cheeses, and dessert plates with thin slices of some sort of chocolate cake. Jared would have loved some cake, but all Jensen offered him was a few cubes of cheese.

“Did you get enough to eat?” Jensen sounded irritated.

Jared nodded, his eyes wide, on Jensen's cake. _That looks phenomenal._ Jared had always had a major thing for anything chocolate.

“For Christ's sake, Jensen, can't you see he wants some cake? Come here, Jared.” Jensen's father took his dessert plate, which still had most of his slice of cake, and held it down near the floor for Jared.

Jared crawled around Jensen's chair to accept it gratefully. He used the fork to cut off a piece and brought it to his mouth. He moaned softly, it was _unbelievably_ delicious, rich and moist and chocolatey and...

There was a powerful jolt from Jared's collar that almost made him drop the plate. Jared whimpered and froze, not certain what he'd done wrong.

“Get back to your spot.” Jensen pointed to the other side of his chair.

Jared moved back, kneeling in his original spot, still savouring each bite of the cake. The plate was empty far too soon for Jared's liking. Jensen whisked his plate away once he had finished.

Jared risked a glance up at Jensen through his bangs. Jensen's mouth was a thin line, and a muscle was jumping in his cheek. Jared looked back down at the floor, his heart rate jumping.

“I'll thank you not to spoil Jared, Dad.” Jensen's voice was low.

Jensen's dad snorted. “Half a piece of cake isn't going to hurt him. Besides, you've been harsh on him and he deserves a treat.”

Jared watched Jensen stiffen. “If I've been harsh on him, I've had reasons.” Jensen's eyes found Jared's, and Jared dropped his gaze back to the carpet with a blush.

Jensen's father took a sip of wine. “He's adjusting. He needs a firm hand, but he also needs time and _patience._ ” The older man regarded his son over the rim of his glass.

Jensen visibly bristled. “We're going, Jared, get up.”

Jared scrambled to his feet before Jensen even made it out of the chair. He followed Jensen, when the boy stalked out of the dining room. Jensen was muttering under his breath.

When they got back upstairs and into Jensen's room, Jensen said only one word. “Strip.” Jensen leaned against the back of the couch, watching Jared with narrowed eyes.

Jared lifted his shirt over his head, but hesitated with the drawstring of his pants.

 _“Now.”_ Jensen's voice was deadly. “I want to see if what I'm getting is worth the _shit_ that I'm getting from my father, because of you.”

“I... I'm sorry, M-Master.” Jared fumbled with the drawstring, knotting it accidentally. He tried to work the knot out with his fingertips, panicking a little. Finally, he managed to get it loose, and dropped his pants, letting them pool at his ankles.

Jared stood naked, shivering, a blush climbing his cheeks. He kept his eyes firmly on the floor. Jensen's shoes and dress pants entered his field of vision, standing close before him. They walked around Jared to the left.

Jared felt gentle fingertips run down his ribs, his waist, to his hipbone, before they left his skin. They trailed from the nape of his neck down his spine, to the dip of his lower back, before Jensen's hand moved to cup Jared's ass cheek. Jared tried not to tremble.

 _When the time is right, I'll break every one his damned fingers. Every single one._ Jared bit his lip.

Jensen's hands wrapped around Jared's hips, and he sharply pulled Jared's back flush against his chest. ”So worth it.” Jensen's voice was a breath in Jared's ear. Jared could feel the warmth of Jensen's skin seeping through his fine dress shirt.

Jensen took a step backwards, leaving Jared's back feeling chilled. Jensen's hands gripped Jared's wrists, and pulled them behind him. Jared fought not to struggle, as he felt the silk of Jensen's tie bind his hands behind his back.

Jensen gave him a push towards the bedroom. “Go. Bend over the foot of the bed, with your cheek on the bedspread. Spread your legs.”

Jared did tremble, when he heard Jensen's instructions. He wasn't convinced his knees weren't going to crumple under him. _Is... is now when I get raped? Please, please, no._ Jared stared hard at the carpet, as he moved towards the bed. He felt like he was walking towards the guillotine.

As Jared bent over, pressing his cheek against the soft linens, he heard the crack and hiss of a can of pop opening, from somewhere behind him. His ass felt so vulnerable.

“Spread your legs.” Jared shifted to comply. “Farther.” Jared inched his feet apart until he felt an uncomfortable pressure on his hips. He froze in that position, barely breathing.

There was utter silence from behind him.

Jared started to feel light-headed from fear and lack of oxygen. He tried to deepen his breathing a little, and the sensation passed.

“When I fuck you for the first time, this is the position you're going to be in.” Jensen paused. “Should that be tonight, Jared?”

Panic clawed at Jared's insides. He whimpered. “No, no, please...”

Jensen's hand was warm when it touched Jared's hip. Jared jolted – he hadn't thought Jensen was that close. Jensen's hand stroked against his skin, as though trying to calm him. Jared felt the brush of Jensen's slacks against the skin of his ass.

Jensen sounded thoughtful. “You know, it's gonna hurt, the first few times. Probably a lot.” Jensen's hand moved to push Jared's lower back down, angling Jared's ass up and out. “But you'll be taking it often, and you'll get used to it for me, won't you?” Jensen's thumb trailed down Jared's crack, barely brushing the opening there.

Jared's response was a terrified whimper. A vicious jolt from the collar would have made him fall, had he not been face-down on the bed.

“Won't you?”

“P-p-please...”

Jared choked off a cry as pain shot through him. “Y-yes...” Jared forced the word from his lips. Tears started from his eyes.

“Yeah, you will.” Jensen's hands gripped painfully tight on Jared's hips, as though he lost control for a moment, before coming back to himself. He patted Jared lightly on the ass, before moving away. “Don't move, okay? You need to get used to being in this position.”

Jared heard a movie start up, as he trembled against the bed. His tears fell slowly, staining the linens.

 

*

 

The muscles in Jared's hips felt like they had knotted themselves into cement, and his tears had dried before Jared heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Jensen called, over his movie.

Jared heard Henrik's soft voice. “I must return Jared to his room for the evening, Sir.” Jared flushed, embarrassed at Henrik seeing him like this.

“Whatever.” Jensen sounded utterly indifferent.

Jared felt gentle fingers untying the knots of the tie. When it was removed, Henrik rubbed Jared's wrists briskly, warming the skin and encouraging the blood to flow. “Can you stand?”

Jared pushed himself off the bed with a soft groan, hips protesting. “Y-yes. Sir.”

“Come, then.”

Jared trailed after Henrik, naked, leaving Jensen's room. Jensen didn't even look away from his movie.

Back in his own room, Jared made a beeline for his bed, crawling in and pulling the blankets up to his chin. He never wanted to be touched, ever again. Jared watched as Henrik turned a dial on the lamp that Jared hadn't seen, dimming it deeply.

“That should help you sleep.” Jared's eyes were already drifting shut, as he felt a gentle touch on the top of his head. Henrik left, closing the door gently. 

 

*

 

Jared's first thought as he woke was, _no, I won't do this._

He used the facilities quickly, and returned to bed, sitting up, the blanket tented over his knees. He stared resentfully at the blank wall.

Henrik came in shortly afterwards, a smile ghosting at the corners of his mouth. “In something of a mood, I take it?”

Jared lowered his face to his knees, and spoke into his blankets. “I won't do this. I want to go home.”

“You are home.”

“My _real_ home. With my parents, and my sister.” Jared raised his head to glare at Henrik.

“Of course.” Henrik reached into his pocket for his phone. “I'll have the relocation of your sister effected immediately.” He began to dial.

“No!!” Jared panicked, grabbing for Henrik's phone. Henrik held it out of Jared's reach, watching Jared with an eyebrow raised.

“No.” Jared's voice broke. “P-please. Sir. I'm sorry.”

“Get up. Shower, shave, brush your teeth. Eat. Your master requests your services, this morning.”

Jared gulped.

 

*

 

Jared picked at a shred of bacon lodged in his teeth, as he followed Henrik down the twisting halls. He was pretty sure that he knew the path from his room to Jensen's.

Jared froze, when he heard loud laughter – the twins – from Jensen's room. Henrik shot him a look, before shoving him into the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Jared backed against the door, heart hammering.

One of the twins grinned and him, and winked. “Hey, Jared.” Jared didn't answer, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow.

“Jared...” Jensen was distracted, huddling together with the other twin, talking softly with him. “Drop your pants, and get into position at the end of the bed.”

“M-Master...”

Pain from the collar dropped Jared to his knees with a whine. “Now, Jared.” Jensen's voice was clipped.

Jared's breaths caught in his throat as he climbed shakily to his feet, and walked stiffly to the foot of the bed. He closed his eyes. Jared felt a warm body behind him, and delicate fingers pulling at the drawstring of his pants. He clenched his hands into fists, and tried very hard not to hyperventilate. The light fabric slipped down his legs.

“That's not so bad, is it?” _Jesus, it was one of the twins._ Jared froze. Gentle fingers pushed his back, bending him over the bed, and lifted one of his feet, helping him step out of his pants. A knee nudged his legs apart. _Jesus, it was both twins._

“See? We're not so scary.” Jared felt the bed move, one of the twins had hopped up onto it. “Give me your hands.” Jared shakily extended his arms above his head, against the bed, and felt cool hands grip his wrists.

“So, you generally want to start with a bare hand. And stick to the meat of his ass – if you aim too high, you could damage his kidneys.” Jared felt a hand ghost over his butt. He flinched, and the hands around his wrists tightened.

“Careful with his hands, Mish, you don't want to cut off the circulation.” Jimmy chided, and Misha's grip loosened a little. “So yeah. You want to give his skin a nice pink colour, before you get the belt out.”

 _Belt?!_ Jared tried to buck up, on the bed, but hands on his wrists, back, and the back of his neck stopped him. He whimpered.

“Be good.” Jensen's voice was firm, and a hand slapped, hard, against Jared's ass.

Jared jolted, and was hit again, across the other cheek. Over, and over, and over again. Jared buried his face into the blankets, hiding his shame. He knew it was Jensen spanking him, somehow. It hurt, a lot, and Jared felt the skin on his ass getting progressively more heated.

“That's gorgeous.” Jared heard Misha whisper, from somewhere above him.

Jared felt Jensen run a possessive hand across his reddened skin. “It really is.” Jensen sounded a little out of breath, a little awed.

“Get the belt.” That had been Jimmy. Jared shuddered, on the verge of begging. He heard Jensen walk to his huge closet, and return. “Fold it in half. Don't hit with the buckle, unless you're looking to scar. It'll break skin, if you hit hard enough.” Jimmy's voice was factual.

“P-please...” Jared gasped into the blankets. A shiver ran through him.

“Hush.” Jared felt cool leather whisper across heated flesh. He tried to brace himself.

Jared winced as the belt slapped down across his ass. He felt a welt rising.

“Holy shit.” Jensen's voice was soft. The belt hissed through the air to land again, a stinging thud across Jared's skin. And a third time. Jared squirmed and whimpered, and felt a hand come down on his lower back, pinning him more firmly to the bed.

“Stay.” Smack. “Still.” Smack. Two more welts across Jared's ass.

“P-please, M-Master...” Jared's voice was muffled, pressed into the blankets, so the other boys couldn't see his tears.

“That crease, where his butt meets his thigh? That's really sensitive. Try hitting him there. You can do the backs of his thighs, too.”

 _Jimmy, you're a sadistic fuck._ Jared yelped as the belt labelled his tender skin, forcing more tears out. _All three of you, I'll end all three of you._

Jared cried silently as Jensen continued to belt him, his ass and thighs on fire.

“You'd better stop, or you're going to draw blood soon. See, where they overlap there, how red it is? Yeah, you'd better stop.” Jared heard the belt hit the floor. _Thank fucking God._

Jensen's hand smoothed over Jared's ass, and down the back of one leg. Jared trembled. He felt Misha climb down off the bed, and heard Jensen's voice, very close to his ear. “You're beautiful, and so good for me. So good. Stay in this position for me, okay?” Jared felt Jensen press a kiss to his hair, before moving away.

“That is so fucking hot. How do you know about this stuff, Jimmy?” Jared heard Jensen move into the living room.

“Practice.” He could hear the smirk in Jimmy's tone.

“Jimmy!” Misha sounded embarrassed.

“Shut up. You know you love it.” Jimmy chuckled.

“Holy shit, Mish, you like being spanked? Belted?”

“Only when it's Jimmy doing it.” Misha sounded pouty.

“Fucking hell.” Jensen said, and both twins laughed.

“I've made him come, spanking him over my lap.” Jimmy gloated.

“Jimmy, Jesus!!” Misha sounded nearly as mortified as Jared felt.

“Will... will you show me?” Jensen sounded nervous and eager, all at once.

“I'm game if Misha is.” Jimmy's voice was playful.

“What, Jared's belted ass isn't amusing enough for the two of you, you need mine, too?” Misha's tone was joking, but there was an undercurrent of heat there. Jared heard a zipper.

Jared tried to block out the sounds of Jimmy spanking Misha. Misha's whimpers and mewls. _That is so wrong, so twisted, they're brothers..._ He heard Misha come with a groan.

“Holy hell.” Jensen was panting. “Will... will Jared ever come like that?”

 _Never. Fucking never._ “If... if he likes it.” Misha panted.

“Return the favour, little brother.” Jimmy sounded hot and bothered. There was a rustle of cloth, and a thud of knees hitting carpet. Jimmy groaned.

“Mish is the best cocksucker, I swear.” Jared felt ill as he heard Misha gag. “Loves it when I force my cock into his throat. Don't you, Mish?” Misha gurgled out a response, and both Jimmy and Jensen laughed.

There was silence from the living room for a short time, broken only by the wet sounds of Misha choking and gagging. Jared tried his hardest not to listen, but Jimmy's groan, as he finished in his brother's mouth, was too loud to ignore.

“Wow. You two are fucking hot.” Jensen sounded awed again. _You two are fucking sick._ Jared grimaced.

“Want a shot at Misha's mouth, Jen?” Jimmy was panting.

 _Do it._ Jared silently encouraged Jensen. _Do it, if it'll keep you the fuck away from me._

“If... if it's okay with him?” Jensen sounded tentative.

“Misha.” Jimmy's voice sounded suddenly authoritative. “Has a thing about being controlled, don't you, Mish?”

“Y-yes...” Jared heard Misha gasp.

“So if I tell him to suck your cock, Jen, he's gonna do it, and he's gonna _enjoy_ it. Aren't you, Mish?”

“Yes!” Jared was sickened by the lust and need in Misha's response. _Use him as your body slave, Jensen. He's clearly pretty into it._

“Fuck.” Jared heard another zipper, and more sounds of Misha gagging and choking.

“Just grab his hair and pull, Jensen. You're not going to hurt him. He loves it.” Jimmy's voice was instructive again, and Jared shuddered.

“Oh, God...” Jensen moaned, an embarrassingly short time later. There was a silent pause, followed by a zipper.

“Thanks, Jen. Thanks, Jimmy.” Misha's voice was wrecked.

“And that's why we don't have body slaves, like you do, Jen. Why would I want one, when my baby brother loves it so much?”

Misha sounded annoyed. “Dude. I'm literally fifteen minutes younger than you.” Jimmy and Jensen laughed.

“You guys want pizza?” The twins answered in the affirmative, and fired up the Xbox as Jensen ordered.

Jared, while still embarrassed, bent over and spread wide, with an aching, searing ass, was grateful he had been forgotten.


	4. Chapter 4

Jared was very uncomfortable that night, as he knelt beside Jensen's chair at dinner, Jensen feeding him bits of delicious food. He was uncomfortable and hungry, as the boys hadn't offered him any of the pizza they had for lunch.

The scratch of the fabric and the pressure of Jared's heels against his welted ass kept Jared from settling.

“What the hell is wrong with your boy, Jensen?” Jensen's father seemed irritated with Jared's inability to sit still.

“I belted him earlier.” Jensen spoke around a mouthful of steak.

Jensen's father scowled. “How many times, Jensen, do I have to tell you about speaking with your mouth full? And you belted him, eh? Any particular reason?”

Jensen swallowed. “No. It just looked good.”

“Let's see it then.” Jensen's father gestured Jared to him. Jared froze in his spot, still for the first time all evening. He felt a warning tingle against his neck. “Get up, boy.”

 _Here? In the dining room? They expect me to... drop my pants, in the dining room??_ Jared stood on shaky legs, and moved to Jensen's father.

His fingers were quick on Jared's drawstring, dropping his pants, and turning Jared around to examine his reddened skin, as Jared blushed furiously. Jared glanced at Jensen, who was still eating, completely unperturbed.

“Nice work. Who taught you?” Jensen's father gave Jared a little push, indicating he should return to his spot. “Leave your pants down, if the fabric's irritating your skin, boy.” Jared shuffled back to his place, mortified, pulling his pants up as soon as he was able. He hung his head, his cheeks brilliant crimson.

“Jimmy.” This time, around a mouthful of potato.

Jensen's father sighed in annoyance at Jensen. “I should've guessed. Try to avoid drawing blood, okay? It's difficult to get out of the clothes, and I don't need to be wasting money replacing them.”

“No problem, Dad.”

Jared glanced down at the plain white tunic. _These clothes mean more to them than my skin does._ Jared shivered.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

 

*

 

After dinner, Jensen took Jared back up to his room. Jared knelt, while Jensen stood in front of the bookcases.

“You were really good today, Jared. I'm proud of you. You took your belting like a champ.”

Jared said nothing, his head lowered, his hair hopefully covering his blush.

“Did you _like_ it, Jared?” Jensen stared at him shrewdly.

“N-no, M-Master. It... it hurt.” Jared shook his head.

Jensen made a tsking noise. “That's a shame. Well, maybe with time. Anyway.” Jensen shrugged. “As a reward, you can pick one book, any book, that you can keep in your room.”

Jared's eyes came up, as Jensen gestured towards the bookshelves. Jared loved to read. His eyes flickered over the bookshelves, there were so many to choose from.

“C-could I have a moment to decide, please, M-Master?”

“Sure.” Jensen went and flopped down on the couch, cracking open a soda. He opened Netflix, as Jared turned back to the shelves.

They didn't seem to be organized in any manner, and were mixed in with games and movies. All Jared could do was scan from shelf to shelf, hoping something caught his eye. He spent several long moments searching.

 _That's the one, right there._ Trembling fingers picked up Neuromancer, by William Gibson. It had long been one of Jared's favourites, one he could read over and over again, getting lost in Gibson's superb storytelling. Jared gazed down at it. It didn't look as though it had ever been opened. Glancing again at the shelf, it didn't look like many of the books had ever been opened at all. _Spoiled rich brats have better things to do than read, I guess._

“Interesting choice.” Jared started, not realizing that Jensen had approached from behind. Jensen wrapped a hand possessively around Jared's hip. “Never read it, myself.”

“It... it's good. Very good.” Jared's voice was soft. He clutched the book to his chest.

“I'll take that under advisement.” Jensen smirked. “Come on, let's watch a movie.”

Jared knew better than to sit on the couch, this time. He curled between Jensen's legs, hissing when his butt made contact with the floor. He heard Jensen chuckle softly.

Jared didn't watch the movie. He had his eyes closed, knowing that Jensen couldn't tell. He was sure to keep the precious book held close.

 

*

 

Henrik turned up as usual to collect him. He saw Jared into bed, and turned down the lamp. Once he was gone, Jared turned the light back up, opened his book, and began to read.

It was like sinking into a warm bath; the familiar, comforting story, and words from his favourite author. It felt like home.

Not fifteen minutes later, Jared's door slammed open, and the noise scared Jared so badly that he dropped his book. Henrik swept over to him with a frown on his face, and a syringe in his hand.

“No! No, no no no no no, please, Sir!” Jared tried to scramble away. Henrik snagged his arm, and Jared felt the pinch of the injection.

Within thirty seconds, Jared was out like a light.

He didn't know that Henrik picked up the book and placed it carefully on the shelf, or that he laid Jared on his back, and pulled the covers over him. 

Henrik dimmed the light again, before he left.

 

*

 

Jared woke, groaning, feeling sick to his stomach. _God, I hate those shots. I guess he was serious, when he said he'd sedate me._ Jared filed that away for future reference. He remembered his book, digging through the bedclothes for it.

 _Gone, it's gone._ Jared could have cried. He stared blankly across the room, and his eyes lit upon the book, standing alone on the small bookshelf. He blinked. Maybe it wasn't so gone after all. His mouth quirked into a half-smile.

Jared got up, preparing for his day. Afterwards, he knocked softly on the door. Henrik opened it, looking down at him. “Ready for breakfast?”

Jared vividly remembered the first time Henrik asked him that. This time, his answer was quite different. “Yes, please, Sir.” Henrik nodded, closing the door again.

Jared picked up his book, and returned to the bed, sitting cross-legged. His butt didn't seem to hurt as badly today, but it had been speckled with bruises when he had looked after his shower. He had been reading for a few minutes when the door opened again.

It was one of the maids from dinner. “H-hello.” Jared smiled tentatively at her.

She completely ignored him, placing the tray on the nightstand, before turning and leaving. Jared sighed softly, feeling unaccountably sad. His pancakes, coated with syrup, didn't seem to taste as good as he thought they would.

 

*

 

The sadness he felt when the maid ignored him passed swiftly enough. Jared actually had the best day that he'd had since he became part of 'the Ackles Estate'. He snorted to himself at the phrase. There had been a delicious lunch, and he had read through his book one and a half times, before Henrik knocked on his door and entered.

Henrik didn't even have to say anything – Jared got up, put his book on the shelf where he had found it, and followed Henrik mutely from the room.

Jensen looked _pissed_ , when Jared saw him. Jared stood near the door, waiting nervously. Jensen was pacing, muttering under his breath. Jensen's eyes glanced across Jared, and he snapped, “Lay on the bed. On your back, head off the end. Now.”

Jared complied, shaking a little, not needing to be told to open his mouth. Jensen was vicious, slamming his cock into Jared's throat, not caring that Jared gagged and spluttered, tears welling in his eyes. Jared clamped his hands into the bedspread, to avoid trying to push Jensen off. Jensen spilled into Jared's mouth with a groan, leaning over him, his arms propped against the bed. Jared lay utterly still with a mouthful of Jensen's come, Jensen's softening cock still in his mouth, while Jensen panted above him.

Jensen stood eventually, and Jared took the opportunity to swallow without further comment, tears trickling into his hairline. He watched Jensen warily, upside-down.

Jensen's body still radiated tension. “Strip, and bend over the end of the bed.”

Jared sat up, trembling, and pulled his shirt off. He slid off the edge of the bed, and dropped his pants, kicking them off his feet. He kept one hand on the bed for balance, and made his way to the foot of the bed. He assumed what was rapidly becoming his regular position, face pressed into the covers, legs spread uncomfortably wide. He heard Jensen move off to the side, and peeked, seeing him returning, wrapping his belt around his hand. 

Jared whimpered. “M-Master, p-please...”

“Shut up.” Jensen's voice was flat.

“P-please...”

Jensen snarled and dug into his pocket, emerging with the control box for Jared's collar. He pressed a button, holding it for several seconds. Something at the back of Jared's collar beeped softly.

“Ask me again, not to hit you.”

“M-mas...” A sharp jolt of pain shot through Jared, and he stopped in mid-word.

“Yeah. You've got two more words, before it knocks you out cold. Smarten the fuck up.”

Terror tore through Jared. As he lay panicking, Jensen laid a searing stripe of pain across Jared's backside.

Jared cried out, and was promptly shocked, harder than before, the pain choking the cry in his throat. He pressed his face into the blanket, tears pouring, trying to keep his sobbing silent.

Jensen laid lash over lash across Jared's ass and thighs, overlapping and crisscrossing, brutally hard, not seeming to care where they landed. Jared shook silently under his blows, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Jared wasn't sure, but he thought his skin felt wet.

At one point, Jensen seemed to decide that Jared's upper back was fair game, bringing the belt down across one of Jared's shoulderblades, as hard as he could.

Jared screamed, and the collar hit him with its second-highest setting, the one before unconsciousness. Jared's scream stopped abruptly as the air was forced out of his lungs. Jared lay gasping, hands clawing at the blankets, fighting vomiting, feeling blood trickle down the back of his legs.

 _Please, please, please be done, please..._ Another slash with the belt across Jared's upper back, and where it intersected with the first was a nova of pain.

Jared groaned before he could stop himself. It triggered the collar, and the overwhelming pain slammed him into unconsciousness.

Jensen watched Jared writhe on the bed and suddenly fall limp. Jensen panted hard, sheened with sweat, the belt held loosely in his hand. He glanced down at it, noticing the blood on the leather.

“Well, fuck. That was Armani.” Jensen fished his phone out of his pocket and pressed a button. “Henrik, come get him, I'm done with him for the night.” 

Henrik arrived a few moments later, taking in the scene. He carefully lifted Jared, cradling him in his arms, getting blood on his crisp white dress shirt. Jared's head rolled loosely backwards.

Jensen looked dazed. He held the belt out to Henrik, who took it. “See if the maids can get the blood off this, please.” Jensen turned away, walking to the couch and dropping onto it.

“Of course, Sir.” Henrik left the room, quietly closing the door after him.

 

*

 

Jared woke some time later, in incedible pain. Everything hurt. He was naked, face down, and the lights... the lights weren't right. Jared frowned. _Why am I laying on paper?_

Jared blinked, and saw the kind-faced woman smiling sadly at him. _Doctor's office. What... what happened?_

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Jared's throat felt raw. The first time he tried to speak, nothing came out. The second time, he got a croak. “H-hurts.”

“I can imagine, but your master denied my request for pain meds for you.” Something tightened, around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. “I'm sorry. I've patched you up pretty well, and cleaned up the blood. You only needed a couple of stitches, in a couple of places. You'll have some pretty spectacular bruising, but you should heal up fine.” She rolled her stool a little closer to Jared. “What did you do??” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“N-nothing,” Jared choked out. “M-Master was angry... b-before I was even b-brought to his room.” Jared felt the tears start.

The doctor sighed deeply. “I was afraid of that. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. Don't get the dressings wet. They'll bring you back here tomorrow, and I'll re-clean and re-bandage them.”

Jared nodded. The doctor moved to the door, opening it, and admitting Henrik.

“Can you walk?” Henrik stood before him.

Jared nodded weakly, and tried to sit up, whimpering as his ass and thighs touched the table. He slid from the table, trying to stand, and his knees crumpled under him. Henrik caught him, gently, as he fell. He scooped up Jared, one arm beneath his shoulders, the other behind his knees. 

Henrik and the doctor shared a glance, before Henrik returned Jared to his room. Henrik helped him use the facilities, which made Jared blush, and propped him up as he washed his hands. He encouraged Jared to drink a little water. Henrik helped him lay down on his stomach, covering him with the lightest of his blankets. Jared whimpered quietly at the touch of the soft fabric against his battered skin. Henrik dimmed the lights, and left.

By the time Jared managed to sleep, his pillowcase was wet with tears. He almost wished for one of Henrik's shots, just so he wouldn't hurt any more.

 

*

 

 _“Jensen!”_ Jensen's father was furious. Jensen slouched in the chair in front of his father's desk, in his office, running a fingernail along the seam of his jeans. Jensen said nothing.

“You enabled voice censure on Jared's collar, and then _beat_ him until he needed stitches?? _Stitches_ , Jensen!!”

Jensen looked mulish. “I can do what I want.”

Jensen's father looked stunned. “You _set him up to fail._ There was no way for him to succeed in that situation. That's not training, Jensen, that's simple brutality. Why did you _do_ this??”

“Mr. Kripke gave me a B on my English paper, all right? I was upset. I was _pissed._ It could affect my GPA!”

Jensen's father's voice was disbelieving. “You got a B on a paper, so you beat your boy so badly that he required a trip to the doctor?”

Jensen shrugged, staring at the carpet.

Jensen's father was silent for a long moment, before he shook his head in disgust. “If you do anything like this, ever again – brutalize him because you were angry at something that had _nothing to to with him_ , I _will_ take him away, and I _will_ have him put down. It would be doing him a kindness.”

“No!” Jensen lurched forward in his chair. “No, please, Dad. I... I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

Jensen's father looked hard at him. “He needs time to heal. He's off limits for a week.”

Jensen groaned. “Dad!!”

The glare Jensen got in return silenced him.

 

*

 

Jared woke slowly, groggy, hurting everywhere. He wasn't sure why he was on his stomach – he never slept on his stomach. His eyes blinked open, and he saw Henrik sitting in a chair in the corner of his room, looking at a phone. Jared must have made a noise, because Henrik glanced up at him.

Henrik pressed a button on his phone. After a moment, he said, “He's up. Come now.” He hung up his phone.

“The elder Master Ackles sends his apologies for the behaviour of his son. He regrets what happened, and informs you it will not happen again. He has authorized the doctor to provide you with medicine, to keep you more comfortable while you heal. During this time, for the next week, you will not interact with young Master Ackles.”

Jared went from confused, to dazed, to profoundly grateful. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. _A guaranteed week – no rape, no blowjobs, no beatings._

The door opened shortly after. Jared's eyes flew open, frightened, but it was only the doctor. She was carrying a plastic carryall, filled with objects. She smiled down at him, perching delicately on the edge of his bed.

“Let's get you feeling a little better, first, before I take a look at your wounds, okay?” The doctor swabbed Jared's arm with a damp cotton ball, and gave him a shot near his shoulder. Jared laid quietly for a few minutes, resting, feeling relatively safe for once. He didn't know what was in the shot, but whatever it was, he was pretty sure he liked it. He smiled goofily up at the doctor, and she chuckled. “Try to hold still, okay? I'm going to remove the bandages, clean you up, check your stitches, and then wrap you right back up, all right?”

Jared nodded, not feeling any pain, and not really caring. It was too comfortable, not hurting, and knowing he had a whole week away from Jensen.

He glanced over at Henrik, who had picked up Jared's book from his bookshelf. He felt a momentary flare of fear that Henrik would take it, but Henrik merely looked at it. “Is...” Henrik looked at the cover. “William Gibson, is he your favourite author, Jared?”

Jared blinked. He was pretty sure that that was the first time Henrik had spoken Jared's name. Jared nodded, blankly. Henrik rose from the chair, and stepped outside for a moment. He didn't quite close the door, and Jared heard him having a murmured conversation on his phone. Henrik returned a few moments later, placed Jared's book back on his shelf, gave Jared a brief smile, and returned to studying his phone.

The doctor had been, or at least it felt like, tugging and rubbing at Jared's back, butt, and thighs for some time. It didn't hurt, but it was a little ticklish. Jared squirmed a bit, underneath her touches. “Try to be still, hon, I'm almost done.” Jared tried to settle.

“There are going to be pills, for you to take with meals, all right? They'll help you stay a little more comfortable, a little more relaxed, to help you heal faster. Try not to do too much that's strenuous for the next few days, or you'll pop a stitch. Okay?”

Jared nodded sleepily. “Yes, Ma'am.”

“Good boy.” The doctor ruffled Jared's hair, and pulled the blankets up over him. She stood, packing her kit up. “You let Henrik know if you need me, all right?”

“Yes... Ma'am.” Jared stifled a yawn – it had been a very, very long day.

The doctor turned and left the room.

Henrik glanced over his phone, at Jared. “Would you prefer me to stay here, or in the hall, Jared?” Jared couldn't deny that Henrik's bulk, in the corner of his room, was a comforting presence. _If Jensen sneaks in, Henrik... Henrik can stop him._

“In here, please, Sir?” Jared's voice was small, uncertain.

“Of course.” Henrik stood, and turned the light to its lowest dimness, before returning to his chair in the corner. “Usually, it is Erik who stands at your door in the evenings, but I will stay with you, for tonight.”

Jared managed to whimper out, “Thank you so much...” before falling asleep.

Henrik smiled at his phone.

 

*

 

Jared woke some time later, a little disoriented in the dim light. His head felt fuzzy, but he was pretty sure he needed a drink, and to use the washroom. He propped himself up on one elbow, drawing Henrik's attention.

Henrik, Jared thought, looked pale and tired. _Well, he did just spend all day, and all night looking after your ass._ He got up from his chair, offering Jared a hand up. Jared tried to stand, and his knees collapsed under him again. _This is ridiculous, I feel fine._

Henrik helped him to the washroom. “Your weakness is to be expected. You suffered cruelly, under the collar and young Master's belt last night. You have been given powerful drugs, to assist with your pain, and to sedate you. Allow me to assist you.”

Jared was briefly embarrassed, but realized that there really wasn't much of him that Henrik hadn't already seen. He used the facilities and drank a glass of water. Henrik encouraged him to lean against the side of the shower stall, as he sponged warm water across the undamaged, unmarked parts of Jared's skin.

Jared flushed a little more red, feeling helpless. “S-Sir, I... I can manage...”

“It's no trouble.” Henrik's tone brooked no argument, and Jared shut his mouth.

After Henrik had carefully dried Jared's skin, he helped him to his feet. Jared caught a glimpse of his back and ass in the mirror, and nearly fainted. He was covered with an ugly mosaic of black and blue bruises, sections of which were hidden by a substantial number of neatly applied white bandages, some soaked through with dots of blood. Jared whimpered.

“It's all right. You're all right.” Henrik led him from the bathroom, still carrying a dry towel. He laid it on the bed, and helped Jared to sit upright on it. “Can you sit, while you have some food?” Henrik's hands hovered over Jared's shoulders, ready to catch him if he should list or fall.

 _Food. Food sounds like a great idea._ Jared blinked at the silver tray which had appeared at his bedside. There was orange juice and apple juice, and a small paper cup containing two pills. He tossed the pills into his mouth, and chased them down with the apple juice. Henrik took a step backwards, as Jared seemed relatively stable. 

Jared lifted the silver dome, and there were bowls of fresh fruit and yogourt. _That looks awesome._ He ate slowly, dipping the fruit into the yogourt, until the food was gone. He was feeling very tired, and thought he might have a nap. 

Jared must've said at least part of that out loud, because Henrik moved back to him, setting the breakfast dishes aside, and helping arrange Jared on his stomach. He placed the towel over Jared's bandages, and positioned the blankets over it.

It was warm and very comfortable. Jared must've been a bit loopy from the medicine, because he said, “You have a nap, too, Henrik,” before he began to snore softly.

Henrik chuckled and left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

The next couple of days were a pleasant blur for Jared. Henrik seemed to be there, most of the time, and the nice doctor came a few times to change his bandages. She announced that he was improved, and wouldn't need to visit as often. It made Jared feel a little sad. She said something about the pills, too, but Jared couldn't quite remember.

Jared ate, and drowsed, and rested, and read his book, and Henrik was almost always there to help. Erik was there, when Henrik wasn't. Jared was afraid of Erik, initially, but when he turned out to be almost as nice as Henrik, Jared was able to relax.

On the third morning, Jared woke feeling a little more alert than he had been. There had only been one pill with dinner the night before, and Jared suspected the sedatives had been stopped. He was okay with that, though. He wasn't really hurting, and being fuzzy-headed all the time was getting a little annoying.

Erik was in the corner, looking at his phone, as Henrik often did. Jared glanced at his bookshelf, and gasped when he saw that the top shelf was nearly entirely full. _What... what are those? When did those get here?_

Jared pushed himself to sitting, and Erik watched, ready to assist if needed. Jared stood on shaky legs, and tottered to his bookshelf. _Gibson, Gibson, Gibson – it's every single book William Gibson has ever written! Holy hell!_ Jared stroked a fingertip down the spine of The Peripheral – the new that one had just been released. _This is amazing!_

 _Henrik. Henrik did this for me._ Jared felt tears of gratitude well in his eyes. He wiped them away before Erik could see. Jared placed a hand against his clothes chest for balance.

Henrik opened Jared's door just then. Erik stood, nodding to Henrik, and left.

“T-thank you, Sir, for all the books. Thank you.”

Henrik nodded at Jared, a small smile on his lips, taking a seat in the chair Erik had vacated.

“N-no, really, it... it means a lot to me.” Jared tried to make Henrik understand.

“It was my pleasure. I'm glad to have helped. I cannot permit you a computer, or internet access, but it is within my power to grant you this.” 

Jared swallowed hard, gave Henrik a crooked smile, and moved to the washroom to start his day.

 

*

 

By the end of the week, Jared's bruising was fading into ugly greens and mustards, his stitches had been removed, and the bandages were gone from his skin.

Every day, his nervousness grew, as he grew closer and closer to the end of his time away from Jensen. He wished he knew how Jensen was going to react. _If he's furious about me being kept away, he might take it out on my hide..._

Jared shivered, trying not to think about it.

Henrik, seeing that Jared was much improved, had returned to standing outside Jared's door, and the chair was gone from the corner of his room. Jared had mixed feelings about this. It was nice to have his privacy, but Henrik's presence had been comforting.

Jared woke on the morning of the eighth day, so nervous that he thought he'd jump out of his own skin. He tried to calm himself in his normal morning routine, but it didn't help much. After breakfast, Henrik took him to Jensen.

Jared stood just inside the doors, having not even looked up. His breathing was rapid and shallow. Jensen's feet came into his field of view, and Jared pressed his back against the door, as though wishing he could sink into it and disappear.

“I... I just wanted to say I was sorry, Jared. What I did to you wasn't fair. I was angry, and it had nothing to do with you, and I took it out on you anyway. And I'm sorry.”

Jared couldn't believe what he was hearing. He risked a glance upwards, and saw that Jensen's head was lowered a little, and his gaze was downcast, as well. He saw Jensen turn away, walking back to sit on the couch. “Come here, please, Jared. Stand in front of me.”

 _Please? Had Jensen ever, even once, said please??_ Jared moved to stand in front of where Jensen was sitting, facing him. Jensen's hands reached for the drawstring of his pants, and Jared froze. Jensen seemed not to notice. He lowered Jared's pants, and turned him around, hands gentle on Jared's hips.

“Oh, God...” Jensen lurched off the couch past Jared, and making a run for the bathroom. Jared heard him crying softly, and wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Jared bent, pulling his pants back up, and fixing the drawstring. He knelt on the floor, keeping his eyes down.

It seemed to take Jensen a long time to pull himself together. Eventually, he returned to the living room, sitting on the couch in front of Jared. He propped his elbows against his knees, and rested his face in his hands. “I am... so sorry.” Jensen's voice cracked.

Jared blinked. He still didn't know what to do, or what to say, and so, did and said nothing. _How do you forgive someone who kidnapped you, enslaved you, and beat the crap out of you?_ Jared stared at the floor.

“Would... would you be more comfortable on the couch, Jared?”

Jared shook his head, no. “They... they give me pills. I'm not in any pain. M-Master.”

“That... that's good.” Jared glanced up, and saw Jensen sit up more straight, his throat working. Jensen gave his head a little shake, and reached for the TV remote. “Do... do you have a favourite movie, Jared?”

Jared ducked his head, not really wanting to share. He shook his head, no.

“Come on. Everyone has a favourite movie. Tell me.” Jensen's voice was earnest. It was an honest request, not a command.

Jared hesitated. _Even if it didn't sound like a command, he's still got that control box in his pocket._ “L-Lord of the R-Rings?” Jared's voice was small.

“Theatrical or extended?” Jensen asked promptly.

“Ex... extended?” Jared offered.

Jensen got up from the couch, and walked to the bookshelves. He immediately reached for a gorgeous box set of Blurays. “There isn't time to watch all of them. Should we just watch the first one, for now?”

Jared nodded mutely, turning to face the television, still on his knees.

Jensen started the movie, and Jared's jaw dropped. _Jesus, the sound. And the crispness of the screen..._ It was like being in a theatre.

Jared flinched, hard, when Jensen's hands touched his shoulders. He barely heard Jensen's sigh over the sound of the movie. Jensen's hands pulled him backwards, snugging him in between his legs. Jared shuffled backwards a little.

Jared felt Jensen's hands slip inside the loose collar of his top, rubbing Jared's neck and shoulders gently. It felt nice, really nice. Jared's eyes flickered closed, and his head leaned forward a little. Jensen rubbed a little more firmly, and Jared felt a little of the tension that had him wired so tightly dissipate.

 _Don't trust him, don't you trust him._ Jared's inner voice piped up. _He's hurt you more than once, he'll do it again. He's going to_ rape _you._ Jared stiffened a little, lifting his head and eyes back up to the screen.

Jensen sighed again, giving Jared's shoulders one last squeeze before leaning back into the couch.

The movie was just ending when there was a quiet knock on the door.

“Yes?”

Henrik entered, and Jared saw in his hand the small paper cup that held his pills. “Jared is due for his medication. He must eat, when he takes it. Shall I have lunch sent up?”

“Sure, thanks, Henrik. What do you want for lunch, Jared?”

Jared really wasn't accustomed to being asked his opinion. “Any... anything is fine, Master.”

“Soup and sandwiches sound okay?”

Jared nodded.

“Soup and sandwiches, please, Henrik. Thanks.” Jensen smiled at Henrik, who gave a slight bow, and left, leaving the small paper cup on the coffee table.

The maid arrived promptly, and Jensen cleared a spot on the table for their food. Jared didn't even look at her, knowing she wasn't going to acknowledge him anyway. The two boys ate in silence, and Jared took his pill. Both of them were quiet afterwards.

“Uh... so, Mish and Jimmy are coming by this afternoon, did you... want to stay?”

Jared felt the echo of Misha's hands, firm on his wrists, and heard Jimmy's factual instructions on how to best strap Jared's ass. Jared whimpered. “N-no, please, M-Master.”

“I... I won't let them touch you, Jared, if you don't want. You don't have to be afraid of them. They're good guys, really.”

 _I don't remember you asking me if it was okay last time, when they stripped me and held me down._ Jared sat silently, trembling a little. He felt exposed, in just his thin tunic and pants. 

“I think you should. I think Mish has a few things he could teach you.” Jensen suddenly sounded a great deal less accommodating, and a lot more like his old self. _I knew it. I fucking knew it was too good to last._ Jared nodded, lowering his head and fixing his eyes on the floor.

The maid had barely left, carrying away the dishes from lunch, when Misha and Jimmy came in. “Hey, Jensen, Jared.” They smiled identical grins.

“Hey, guys.” Jensen smiled. “So, I got to thinking. I was thinking that Misha really does give a killer blowjob,” The twin on the left blushed furiously. “And that he should teach Jared how he does it.”

Jimmy's eyes lit up. “I think that sounds awesome. Don't you think that sounds awesome, Mish?” Jimmy's voice was light, but the command was clear.

“Y-yes.” Misha grinned. “That sounds awesome.”

“All right. Jared, between my legs. Jimmy, have a seat, and Mish, on your knees between Jimmy's.” The four boys situated themselves. Misha was still wearing his grin, and Jared was still staring at the floor.

Misha reached for Jimmy's belt, undoing it with deft fingers. He glanced over at Jared, who was doing nothing. “Jared, get Jensen's belt, and his fly.”

“Anything that comes out of Misha or Jimmy's mouth, Jared, you treat as if it came from mine. Understood?” Jensen leaned back on the couch, watching Jared.

“Y-yes, Master.” Jared whispered. He lifted shaking hands, and undid Jensen's belt, a lot more clumsily than Misha did. He popped the button of Jensen's jeans, and pulled down his zipper.

“The thing you gotta keep in mind, Jay, is to worship the cock,” Misha's voice was reverent. Jimmy and Jensen were silent. Jared watched as Misha drew his brother's cock, already hard, from his pants, running his hands up and down its length. He pressed a kiss to the tip, opened his mouth, and took Jimmy inside. Jimmy groaned.

Misha pulled off with a pop. “Suction. Pressure. Run your tongue against the underside of the head, there's a _ton_ of nerves there, watch.” Misha took Jimmy into his mouth, his eyes on his brother's, and Jimmy groaned again.

“Eye... eye contact is good, too.” Jimmy panted out.

Misha moaned softly, blue eyes open wide, and took more of his brother into his mouth.

“En... enthusiasm... enthusiasm works. And... and deepthroating... Jesus...” Jimmy lost his words, his cock buried in his brother's throat. Jared watched a tear trail down Misha's cheek. Misha held his brother in his throat for what Jared thought was a very long time, swallowing repeatedly, before pulling off slowly, breathing a little heavily through his nose. He pressed another kiss to the tip.

“Everyone likes something a little different.” Misha smiled at Jared. “It's down to Jensen to teach you what he likes, what makes him come the hardest.” Misha winked up at Jimmy, who had his head back, panting.

“Mish... Misha also likes to be a fucking tease.” Jimmy glared down at Misha.

“You know you love it.” Misha scoffed. Jimmy grabbed the back of Misha's hair with one hand, the base of his cock with the other, and rammed Misha's head down on his cock. Misha gagged, and Jimmy groaned.

“And then... there's facefucking. Taking...” Jimmy moved Misha's head forcefully up and down on his cock, both of his hands now in Misha's hair. “Taking what you want, from fucking teases.” He pulled Misha's head down, forcing his length down his brother's throat, and Misha choked.

Jimmy came with a groan, spilling right down Misha's throat. “Christ.” Misha pulled off, licked his lips, and grinned. Jimmy panted above him.

“Your turn, Jared.” 

Jared's blood froze. Jared felt Jensen's hand on the top of his head, turning it back to face him. Jared's eyes, wide and frightened, found Jensen's.

“Ask me what I like, Jared.” Jensen's voice was soft.

Jared's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He tried again. “W-What do you like, M-Master?”

“I like seeing your eyes on mine. I like having my hands in your hair. I like feeling my cock in your throat. I like hearing you gag and choke, and seeing your tears.” The softness of Jensen's voice never changed.

Jared whimpered, the tears Jensen seemed to want burning in his eyes.

“Let's chalk up 'facefucking' as a big ol' plus for Jensen!” Misha sounded gleeful.

“What... what is _wrong_ with you people?” Jared closed his eyes, his tears falling. “I... I don't _want_...”

The collar seared pain down Jared's spine, and he bit off his cry, hunching forward. His face was near the floor, his palms against it, his breathing ragged.

There was silence for a moment. It was Misha that broke it. “Dude. You're a body slave, it's your _job_ to want it. Get with the program, man. Suck your master's cock.”

Harsh fingers sank into Jared's hair and pulled him up. Jared gasped in pain, and Jensen rammed Jared's open mouth down over his cock. Jared gagged, more tears falling from his eyes, and tried to push away from Jensen. Misha's hands gripped Jared's wrists, pulling them behind his back and pinning them there.

Jared's eyes were shut tight, as Jensen used both hands to slide Jared's head up and down his cock. Jensen's hands stilled, leaving a few inches of cock in Jared's mouth.

“Let's feel your tongue, like Misha said, Jared.” Jensen panted softly.

 _Fuck you. Fuck all of you._ Jared kept his tongue pressed flat on the bottom of his mouth, away from Jensen's cock.

Jared convulsed as pain ripped through him, the cock in his mouth stifling his yell. Misha scrambled to resecure Jared's arms.

“Your tongue, Jared.” Jensen's voice was maddeningly soft and even. 

Jared forced himself to comply, not ready to feel another blast of pain. He ran his tongue under the head of Jensen's cock, and Jensen groaned softly, pulling Jared's head down his length again, hard. He forced himself into Jared's throat, and Jared choked, fighting for air.

“Swallow, Jared. Swallow, over and over again.” Misha's voice was earnest, in Jared's ear. One of Misha's hands touched Jared's throat, lightly.

Jared did, the muscles of his throat working against Jensen's cock. Jensen's orgasm seemed to take him by surprise, and he spilled into Jared's throat.

“Keep swallowing.” Misha hissed, the hand against Jared's throat tightening a little.

Jared did, wringing the last of Jensen's orgasm from him. Jensen let go of Jared's head, and Jared pulled off, coughing. He wrenched his arms out of Misha's grasp, shoved Misha's arm away from his throat, and lowered his hands to his thighs, gripping them tight. He dropped his head, staring down at his knees, his eyes still full of tears.

All four boys were quiet, until Jensen said, “This... was a good idea.” The twins chuckled. Jensen buzzed Henrik to come and get Jared, who was trembling, tears falling, kneeling on the floor. Jensen and the twins ignored him as Henrik helped Jared up, and out of Jensen's space.

When they arrived in Jared's room, he curled up in as small a ball as he could make himself on the bed, facing the wall.

“I'm going to assume that you won't be dining with your masters, this evening.”

Jared didn't bother to answer.

Henrik left quietly.

 

*

 

After Jared's half-bowl of pellets and his pill, he laid back down to read for a little while. To his surprise, Henrik opened the door and entered.

“Your master requests your presence.”

Jared curled up defensively. “W-what?”

“Now, please.”

Jared stood on shaky legs. _He... he got his blowjob. What else could he possibly want?_ Henrik led him back to Jensen's rooms.

Jared was unaccountably nervous. _It's fine, the twins are probably gone. It's fine._

As Henrik ushered him in, Jared was relieved to find that this was the case. Jensen was alone.

“Strip, and get into position at the end of the bed.” Jensen's tone was clipped.

Jared shucked his shirt, and let his pants fall, stepping out of them. He assumed his wide-legged stance, bent over the bed. He felt Jensen, close behind him. He heard the click of something plastic, and cool liquid slid down the crack of his ass. Jared panicked, trying to stand. Jensen shoved him, hard, back onto the bed.

“You know.” Jensen's voice was contemplative. “You made me look like a fucking idiot, in front of Mish and Jimmy today.”

Jared felt the tips of Jensen's fingers slide into the lube, slipping over his hole. Jared shuddered. “I... I'm sorry.”

“You're a _body slave_ , Jared. One who doesn't seem to understand his place, or his _function_.” Jensen pressed against Jared's hole, slipping a fingertip inside. Jared flinched and tried to lean forward, to get away, but he was pressed tight against Jensen's bed. Jensen slipped the rest of his finger inside. Jared whimpered.

“I'm thinking, maybe, that it's partially my fault.” Jensen pumped his finger into Jared's hole a few times, before retracting it. It returned slicked with more cool lube, and Jensen forced two inside. Jared whined, trying to stand up again.

Jensen smacked Jared across the back of the head, hard, before shoving him back down. Two of his fingers worked in and out of Jared's hole.

“I'm thinking it's partially my fault, because I haven't _used_ you, the way a body slave is _meant_ to be used.” There was more cold lube, and three fingers. It stung and burned.

“P-please...”

“I swear, I'm going to buy you a gag. Maybe a couple.” The three fingers scissored and stretched Jared, and he shut his mouth.

“I'm hoping, that once you get _fucked_ , you'll realize that it's your only function in life.” The fingers retreated, and Jared heard Jensen's zipper.

“No, please, no no no no no no...” Jared whispered into the blankets. He felt the blunt head of Jensen's cock at his opening for a brief second, before he forced his way inside Jared's channel, all the way, not giving him any time to adjust or relax.

Jared clawed at the blankets, agonizing pain shooting through him, feeling certain that Jensen had torn him. Jared told himself he wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to cry...

“Jesus Christ, you're tight, Jared. You feel _so_ good on my cock.” Jensen stayed fully seated within Jared, his hands gripping Jared's hips, for a long moment, breathing heavily. He pulled back out slowly, and Jared felt one hand leave his hip, touching Jared's rim where it was stretched around Jensen's cock. Jensen groaned, gripped Jared's hip again, and slammed into Jared, grinding his pelvis against Jared's ass. It didn't hurt any less, and forced a pained whine from Jared.

“I know, it hurts. Every virgin hurts, getting fucked for the first time. Try to _relax_.” Jensen punctuated the word with another hard thrust. “The more you relax, the less it's gonna hurt.”

Jared couldn't relax. It hurt, and it burned, and he was being _raped_. _Don't cry, don't cry..._

Jensen set up a pace, pulling out slowly, only to thrust hard back in. Over, and over, and over. It felt like forever, to Jared. Suddenly, Jensen's thrusts became a little erratic.

“Do... do you want my come, up your ass, Jared?” Jensen's grip tightened on Jared's hips.

Jared said nothing.

“I asked you a _question_.” Jensen thrust viciously hard into Jared. One hand left Jared's hip, and he was shocked, excruciatingly painfully, by the collar. Jared burst into pained sobs, hands still clawing at the blankets, trying to pull himself away.

Jensen's hand sunk into Jared's hair and he pulled, forcing Jared to arch up off the bed. “Answer the fucking question. Do you want my come up your ass, or should I pull out, and shove it down your throat??”

Jared was too frightened, too horrified, and too hurt to answer; all he could do was sob. Jensen released Jared's hair, shoving him back down against the bed. He thrust hard a couple of more times and stilled, spilling his come inside Jared.

He pulled out, and Jared shuddered, still sobbing uncontrollably into the blankets. Jensen watched his come leak from Jared's hole, and down his inner thigh. Jensen walked around to the side of the bed, leaned down, and twisted Jared's head towards him. Jared's face was a mess of snot and tears, his eyes clenched shut, still sobbing.

“Open your eyes, Jared.” Jensen's voice was soft.

Jared tried, but Jensen's face was a blur through his tears. Jared's breathing hitched in his chest.

“This is what you're for, Jared. You exist to be a couple of holes for me to fuck. Do you understand now?”

Jared said nothing, and pain tore through him, making him scream. He sobbed harder, his panic growing. 

“Do you understand?” Another surge of pain ripped through him, and he screamed again.

“Y-yes! Yes...” Jared choked out, between sobs.

“Shhhh, shh shh shh.” Jensen tried to quiet him, stroking a hand through Jared's hair. Jared tried to quiet his sobs, calming just a little when there wasn't any more pain. “It's all right. You did well, okay? Hush.”

Jared's sobs subsided, his breathing was choppy, and his fear was still a solid thing in his throat. He knew, he just knew, that there would be fallout for not answering Jensen's question, even if he couldn't at the time. _Maybe... maybe better late, than never? Maybe he won't punish me, if I say it now..._

Jared forced the words out, his throat sore from screaming and crying. “Up... up my ass, M-Master. I... I want...” Jared swallowed hard. “I want your come up my ass.”

Jensen laughed, he actually full-out laughed. “Little late for that request, isn't it? I mean, yeah, I'm only sixteen, but I've still got a refractory period, man. Give me a couple of minutes, and I'll put another load up inside you, all right?”

Jared moaned in terror. _No, no no no no no!! That... that wasn't what I meant! Please, no!_ He stared into Jensen's eyes, begging him not to.

Jensen winked at him, and stood. “Stay.” Jensen walked out into the living room, and Jared heard him flop onto the couch. Music started to play from the television. Jared turned his face back into the blankets. His ass ached and burned, and the sensation of the come trailing down his thigh made him want to vomit. He felt dirty and used. Jared's knees trembled.

He heard Jensen get up a few minutes later, and move back in behind him. Jensen's cock was a hard length, pressed against Jared's ass.

“P-please, M-Master...”

“Tell me again where you want my come, Jared.”

The high-pitched whine of panic escaped Jared's lips again. “P-please...”

The collar buzzed a tingling warning. “Last chance.”

“M-my ass.” Jared blurted the words out.

“Try phrasing that a little more nicely, like you did before.”

Jared clenched his eyes tight, trying to pretend this wasn't happening. Or that it was happening to someone else. His voice sounded hollow, even to him. “P-please, M-Master, I... I want your come up my ass.”

Jensen groaned, and slid his cock back inside Jared. Jared whimpered, expecting the awful, searing pain, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it was the first time.

“God, you beg so pretty for me. My little slut.” Jensen set a punishing pace, faster and harder than the first time. Jared was rocked against the bed, his ass aching, his face pressed into the blankets. Jared suddenly kind of... blanked out. He turned his face to the side, stopped crying, and just waited for it to be over.

“When... when you're healed, I'm going to beat you black and blue again, for not answering... my question.” Jensen groaned, and came inside Jared again. Jared hardly felt anything at this pronouncement. _Master's going to do what he's going to do, and there's nothing I can do to stop him._ He was utterly still under Jensen. Jensen stayed inside him, and continued. “I'm not sure whether to get a cane, a crop, or a paddle for you. Maybe one of each. Would you like that, Jared?”

“Yes, Master.” Jared answered, automatically. _It's not like saying 'no' was an option._

Jensen frowned down at him. “You want me to beat you?”

“Yes, Master.” Exactly the same tone.

Jensen muttered, under his breath, “What the hell?” He pulled out, and Jared didn't even react. He knelt beside the bed, his face close to Jared's, still frowning. Jared's eyes were dry, and his face was blank. He didn't even seem to see Jensen.

“Jared?” Jensen tapped Jared sharply on the cheek. Jared didn't flinch, didn't respond, didn't even blink. “Fucking hell. Get up, Jared.”

Jared stood, not really thinking. The cooling come sliding down his leg didn't even really bother him that much now. Jared stared at the floor. _Is Master done? Maybe he's done._

Jared didn't even register that Jensen had called for Henrik, or that Henrik had arrived. He was just grateful not to be raped or hurt any more, in an academic sort of way. He heard a soft murmur of conversation, but no one seemed to be demanding anything of him. It struck Jared that he was quite tired.

He felt fingers touch his wrist. He glanced at them, following the arm up. _Henrik. Henrik has never hurt me._ There was a gentle pull, and Jared followed where it led, not paying a lot of attention to where he was going. There was the glossy wooden door, and the doctor. _Am I hurt? Do I need a doctor?_ Jared frowned a little, and became aware the doctor was speaking to him. He tried to listen.

“Jared... are you okay? Can you hear me?” Jared nodded. “What happened?”

Jared reached down to scratch an itch on his thigh, and his fingers came back wet. He looked at them, a little confused. _Master's come. Right. Raped. Twice. Master's little slut._ The doctor saw, too. She sighed.

“I'm going to give you a shot, okay, Jared? When you wake, hopefully you'll feel a little better.” Jared nodded, sleep sounded like a great idea. He climbed up to sit on the table, come and lube smearing between his skin and the paper. Jared felt the needle, but it was nothing compared to the agony he'd been in recently, which seemed like a distant memory, for whatever reason.

Jared got a little dizzy, and decided to lay down. He was out before the shot could even take effect.

“He's dissociated. It's a coping mechanism some people employ in traumatic situations. Hopefully, he'll snap out of it when he wakes. I'll put it in my report for Mr. Ackles.”

Henrik nodded, scooping Jared up.

“Your shirt... you should've let me clean him up a little.”

“It's fine. Thank you.” Henrik nodded to the doctor, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Jared woke confused. He was in his clothes, in his bed, in his room. He had no idea how he had gotten there. He had been... Jared sat up abruptly, and the ache radiated from his ass.

 _Master... raped me. Twice? Twice, I think... that would explain the ache._ Jared laid back down, shifting onto his side. He was a little alarmed that he couldn't remember how he got back here. He felt clean and dry, which didn't jibe at all with how he recalled feeling last – sweaty, filthy and used. He remembered the itch of come on his skin.

He vaguely remembered... checking out, when the pain and the horror and the humiliation had reached some critical point. It had been okay. Good, actually. Like everything was happening at a distance. He could see it happening, but didn't have to feel it. Jared shivered, and pulled the blankets up a little higher.

It scared him a little, that he wished he could have stayed like that.

The door opened, and Henrik entered, carrying a food tray. Jared blushed, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

Henrik put the tray down on the bedside table. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I... I'm not sure. How... how did I get back here, Henrik?”

“I carried you, after a stop at the doctor. She gave you a shot, to help calm you down. I brought you here, bathed you, dressed you, and put you to bed. You were unconscious.”

Jared flushed a darker red. “I'm... I didn't... you didn't need to do that...”

“You were incapacitated. I thought you might be more comfortable, when you woke, if I did these things. It was no trouble.”

Jared was a little overwhelmed by how unfailingly kind and caring Henrik had been to him, in his odd, formal way. “Th-thank you.” Jared's voice was a little croaky.

Henrik nodded. “Do you think you could eat?” He lifted the dome off the tray – toast and soup. Jared was beginning to think of it as his 'I got fucked up' meal. Jared sat up, and slowly ate his food. Henrik gave him a small smile, and left the room.

 

*

 

“Dissociative state, Jensen? How did Jared get into a dissociative state, Jensen??”

Jensen put down his game controller. “I don't know, it just kind of happened.”

“What did you do to him yesterday?”

“Well, Misha taught him how to suck cock, and then later, after the boys left, I used him.” Jensen paused. “Twice.”

“God.” Jensen's father scrubbed a hand across his face. “Do you enjoy not listening to me, Jensen?”

“Hey, I didn't let either of the twins use him. Misha had his hands, while I used his throat, but that was it. And he asked me, for the second use.”

Jensen's father's eyebrow lifted. “Really. He was a virgin, and he's perceiving this as rape, you know. He will for some time. And he _asked_ you to rape him a second time?”

Jensen nodded. “I asked him, the first time around, where he wanted my come, and he wouldn't answer. I shocked him a few times, and he still didn't answer, and I came in his ass. And a little while after, he begged for more come up his ass. So I put it there.”

“You realize that it's more likely that he was simply answering your earlier question, as soon as he was able.”

“... oh. I didn't think about that. I guess that makes sense. He kind of zoned out as I was finishing the second time.”

“A lighter hand, Jensen, for the love of God. Once a day, you can use his ass. Until he's better adapted. And no punishment for this. He's trying, Jensen.”

“Fine.” Jensen rolled his eyes, exasperated.

Jensen's father left the room, shaking his head. 

 

*

 

Jared spent a lot of time that evening with a book open in front of him, and not reading. He thought about that grey space that he had found himself in. It had been disconcertingly comfortable. Not as though the pain couldn't touch him, more that it just... didn't seem relevant. If Jared could do it again, visit the grey space when Jensen was beating or raping him, maybe his sense of self wouldn't take such a pounding _(pun not intended)_ every time.

The only thing that bothered him was the memory loss. And it bothered him deeply. Once, and only once, before he was taken, he had drunk himself into a blackout, and couldn't remember what had happened. It upset him so badly that he hadn't had a drink since. And this was ten times worse, because he knew that truly horrible things were happening, while he was unable to remember.

Jared gazed unseeingly at his book, and chewed his lip, and thought.

Henrik popped his head inside the door some time later. “It's time for bed.”

Jared immediately put his book down, and turned the light to its lowest setting. 

 

*

 

Jared had a pleasant day, quiet, with no call to spend time with Jensen. _Must be a weekday. He's at school._ Jared felt a surge of sadness that he tried to push back down. Tears prickled in his eyes. Without warning, he burst into sobs.

Henrik must have heard him, because he opened the door and slipped inside. He sat on the edge of the bed. “What's wrong? Are you in pain?”

Jared pushed himself up to sitting, clutching his pillow against his chest like a lifeline. Sobs racked his frame, and it was a moment before he could answer Henrik.

“St-Stanford. I... I was going to st-study law... at Stanford.” Jared buried his face in the pillow.

“Ah.” Jared felt Henrik's huge hand drop onto his shoulder. “But you have new purpose now, yes?”

Jared choked out an incredulous laugh. “B-being a couple of h-holes for some spoiled r-rich kid to fuck?? Th-That's not a purpose. This is-isn't a purpose! I don't belong here!”

“You offer support and comfort to young Master. It's a very important role.”

Jared turned his tear-streaked face to Henrik, completely incredulous.

“And, as much as I regret to say, it is currently your only option. We all have our roles to play, in this household. My role is to offer you support and comfort, and to remind you of the consequences of failing to adapt to your new position.” Henrik stared meaningfully at Jared.

Jared froze, his eyes on Henrik. Jared nodded, just a little, and stared down into his pillow.

“Young Master will return to the estate soon. I'd advise you to prepare yourself for his arrival. He may request you.” Jared felt the gentle squeeze on his shoulder, and Henrik got up and left.

Jared stood, feeling empty and wooden, and scrubbed the tears from his face in the washroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, wishing he could find the blank grey space again.

 

*

 

Jared wished he had the willpower to eat the oatmeal pellets every day, but he simply didn't. He willingly put himself through the hell that was dining with his Masters, simply because the food was so amazing.

Jared was kneeling beside Jensen's chair, his head and eyes lowered between bites of delicious food. Today, it was steak that nearly melted against Jared's tongue. Never, in his life, had Jared ever had meat that good. And Jensen was quite generous with it.

There wasn't very much conversation over dinner. Jared detected a certain frostiness in the air. He was grateful, it meant fewer chances that he'd be asked to actively participate. He kept his silence, kept his head down, and ate what he was given.

It was over dessert that his luck finally broke.

“So, Jared.” It was Jensen's father, and Jared's breath caught. “Are you settling in all right?”

“Y-yes, Master.” Jared stared fixedly at the leg of Jensen's chair.

“Finding us agreeable, are you?”

 _Aside from the beatings and the rape? Suuuuuure._ “Y-yes, Master. Henrik... Sir... has... has been very kind.”

“Has he?” Jensen's father sounded mildly interested.

“He... he got me books.” Jared's voice dropped. Even to him, it sounded silly.

“That was good of him. Was there anything else you wanted, Jared?”

Jared's heartbeat rocketed. _Was... was this a trick? Or an honest opportunity to ask for something? Or... or was he just supposed to be grateful for what he had?_

“N-no, Master. T-thank you.” _Safest answer, for sure._

“Are you sure? We could install a small television for you, give you access to Netflix. Do you write?”

Jared was confused at the sudden change in topic. “M-Master?”

“Do you write? Are you a writer? Or an artist? We could arrange supplies for you. Or perhaps a tablet, or computer. No internet, though, I'm sorry.”

Jared gaped, open-mouthed, for a moment, before coming to his senses. “I... I used to write, M-Master. Short... short stories. F-fiction.” _Though what would I write about now? 'How to Be the Best Slave You Can Be'??_

“Interesting.” Jensen's father took a sip of his wine. “I”m sure you're very talented. We'll see what we can arrange for you.”

“T-thank you, Master.”

“If there are any other books you'd like, let Henrik know, and he'll obtain them for you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The rest of the meal passed in silence. Jensen seemed to be getting progressively more annoyed. “Come on, Jared.” Jensen stood.

Jared scrambled to his feet, and followed Jensen back to his rooms. He hovered, just inside the door, uncertain of what Jensen wanted, or where he wanted him. Jensen perched on the arm of the couch.

“From now on, Jared, when you come into my rooms, you strip, and fold your clothes neatly into a pile beside the door.”

Something shrivelled up and died, inside Jared. He began lifting his shirt up over his head. “W-what if the twins are here, Master?”

“Did I say there were any exceptions?” A frown crossed Jensen's face.

“N-no, Master.” Jared folded the shirt neatly, and placed it on the floor. He pulled the drawstring of his pants, dropping them and stepping out, folding them neatly on top of his shirt. He shivered a little.

“Do you know why I'm insisting on this, Jared?” Jared glanced at Jensen. He didn't seem angry, though Jared knew that was no guarantee of safety.

“N-no, Master.”

“Because I think it'll help you remember why you're here. Why are you here, Jared?”

Jared whimpered. “To... to offer you...” _What was it that Henrik had said?_ “C-care and support, M-Master.”

Jensen snorted. “That sounds like something Henrik would say. How about what _I_ told you that you were here for, Jared?”

Jared choked on the words. “H-holes... f-for you to f-fuck, M-Master.”

Jensen chuckled. “Exactly. You offer me _support_ by providing hot, wet places for me to shove my cock.” Jensen smirked.

Jared flushed crimson. “Y-yes, Master.”

“So which of your holes would you like me to shove my cock in right now, Jared?”

Jared blanked.

“You know what, don't tell me, _show_ me. You know which positions I want you in, for the use of each hole. Go show me what you want me to fuck, Jared.” Jensen made a sweeping gesture towards the bedroom.

 _Nothing, nothing, I don't want your cock anywhere near me. I don't want you to even touch me._ Jared walked stiffly towards the bedroom. His thoughts were shredded by panic. _My... my mouth... he chokes me, but... but there's no horrific pain._ Jared laid back against the bed, head off the end, mouth open and eyes closed.

Jensen was very close when he spoke next. “Do you not like my cock in your ass, Jared? Is that why you chose this?”

Jared closed his mouth, and swallowed. “P-please. It... it hurts, M-Master.”

“And I've got just the perfect thing to help you with that. And to stop you leaking come on my carpet.” Jared could hear the smirk in Jensen's voice. Jared's mouth opened in a panicked little gasp.

“So, first, I'll fuck your throat, and then, I'll help you with your new present, all right?”

 _Help me??_ Jared whimpered and tried to shut his thoughts down. He opened his mouth again, clenching handfuls of the blanket.

Jensen was fast and brutal, slamming into Jared's throat. Jared did his best to breathe when he could, and tried to relax. Jensen pulled out as he was finishing, gasping, filling Jared's mouth with his come. Jared held it there, trembling, until Jensen finally told him to swallow.

“All right, now, sit up, and I'll show you your present.”

Jared cursed Jensen in his head, cursed the bitter taste of his come, coating his mouth. He sat slowly, turning to face Jensen at the end of the bed. Jensen had a manic grin on his face, and a hand held behind his back. _Absolutely nothing good comes, when Master smiles like that._

“Ta daaaa!” Jensen held out his hand, and in it was a large, heavy-looking metal butt plug. Jared felt faint, and said nothing. Jensen looked unimpressed by Jared's lack of enthusiasm.

“You're going to wear this, all day, every day. You can take it out to shower, and to use the washroom, and that's it. Every morning, you'll lube it up, and shove it in. It'll keep you open for me, so I don't have to prep you every time, and sex is gonna hurt less. Understood?”

Jared nodded, unable to take his eyes off the ghastly plug.

“I swear to God, you're the most ungrateful son of a bitch that ever lived, Jared. I'm doing this for _you_. Or would you rather I just fucked you with no prep, every time?”

Jared choked. “N-no!” He coughed around his sore throat. “No, please, M-Master. T-thank you... for the p-plug.”

Jensen looked grumpy. “Get into position, and I'll put it in you.”

Jared slid hesitantly from the bed, moving around to the foot. Jensen shoved him face-down, and kicked his legs apart. He was muttering under his breath. “My dad offers you a pen and paper, and you thank _him_ , but I offer you something that's gonna help you not hurt so much, and you're an ungrateful shit.”

“Sorry, I-I'm sorry...” Jared whispered.

Jensen was rough and hurried with his prep, slicking Jared's hole and opening him with careless fingers. Jared bit his lip and tried not to cry at the casual invasion. Soon, too soon, Jared felt the nudge of something blunt, heavy, and _very_ cold. He tried to hold back the whine, but it slipped out. More and more of the cold metal was pressed into him. It stretched Jared uncomfortably, until it popped into place. It felt wretched – hard, cold, unforgiving, and amazingly heavy. It held him spread open.

“How's that feel?”

“C-cold, M-Master.” _It's not like you want to hear my actual opinion._

Jensen chuckled. “It'll warm up. Stand up.” 

Jared stood, and something in the plug _shifted_. The sensation made Jared gasp.

Jensen smirked. “You felt that, huh? How about this... do you feel this?” Jensen pulled out a small black remote, and pressed a button. The plug in Jared's ass began to vibrate, hard, against his prostate. Jared groaned before he could stop himself.

The vibrations stopped abruptly. Jared gasped, horrified at the surge of arousal he had felt. “I'm thinking that's a yes. Do you like your gift, Jared?”

Jared fought the urge to vomit at the thought that Jensen could use the plug to stimulate Jared whenever he felt like it. “Y-yes, Master. Thank you.”

The vibrations started again, and Jared shuddered. He felt himself harden, against his will. _Oh, God...._ Jensen stepped chest-to-chest with him, his lips against Jared's ear. “I can use this to bring you so much pleasure, Jared, or so much misery. I can keep you on the edge of coming, watch you writhe, and listen to you beg, and you _will_ beg. And then I'll take it out, and you'll come screaming on my cock, and you'll thank me.”

Jared made a high-pitched, desperate noise, as he hardened further. He was sickened by what Jensen was promising, sickened by the power that Jensen had over his body, and yet, with the arousal surging within him, his cock hard and leaking now, he also wanted release.

“Your orgasms, Jared, are _mine_. I decide when you come. _If_ you come.” Jensen deliberately rubbed his hip against Jared's aching cock.

The pressure against Jared's cock and silkiness of Jensen's dress pants felt amazing. Jared's head fell against Jensen's shoulder, and his breath turned into little panting gasps. He just needed a little more...

Jensen backed away, and Jared whined with the loss. _No!_

“ _I_ decide if you get to come, Jared.” Jensen's eyes glinted – he had known how very close Jared had been. The vibrations stopped. “And if you can't control yourself, I'll put you in chastity. Remember – there are cameras everywhere. If you jerk off, your cock goes in a cage, for a long, long time. Understood?”

Every nerve in Jared's body wanted him to reach for his cock, stroke a few times, and find his release. He shuddered, Jensen's words slowly sinking in. _Chastity – jesus._ He took a few deep breaths, and nodded. “Y-yes, Master. I... I understand.”

There was a wicked gleam in Jensen's eyes, and the vibrations started up again.

“Oh, God....” Jared hung his head, trembling, almost immediately back on the edge of orgasm.

“Do you have permission to come, Jared?” Jensen held his hand right in front of Jared's twitching cock; Jared could feel the heat from it, and desperately wanted to rut into Jensen's palm.

“N... no, M-Master... please... please?” Jared tried to hold himself still. 

The vibrations shifted into a rolling pulse, and Jared thought he would die. His knees shook. The pulses intensified, and Jared's knees went out from under him, crashing him to the floor. He barely felt the impact, on the razor's edge of coming untouched. “P-please, Master... I'm... I'm gonna...”

Jensen slipped to his knees in front of Jared, so close, but not touching. “But you don't have _permission_ , Jared. If you come, it means chastity.” Jensen's eyes were wide, sparkling emerald. Jared's were pleading.

Jared grit his teeth, “P-please, t-turn it off, I... I don't want...”

The vibrations stopped on a dime. Jared sat back, hard, and his rump hit his heels. It jostled the plug, the plug shifted, and Jared came. All over his belly, his thighs, and the carpet. Untouched.

Both boys were silent for a long moment, breathing hard.

“I... I'm so sorry, M-Master, p-please. It was an accident, the... the plug... I... I didn't mean...” Jared panicked, his words spilling out.

“Shhh, Jared. Hush.” Jensen looked disappointed, staring at Jared.

Jared shut his mouth, catching his whimper behind his teeth. He wanted desperately to beg Jensen for forgiveness. To beg Jensen not to put him into chastity. Tears filled Jared's eyes.

Jensen watched Jared's building distress. He sighed softly. “Did you have permission to come, Jared?”

Jared shook his head, no, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“And what's the penalty, Jared, for coming without permission?” Jensen sounded so, so disappointed.

“Ch-chastity...” Jared whispered, more tears falling. 

“Go lay on the bed, Jared.” Jensen stood, moving towards the bathroom. He returned with a number of items in his hands. Jared was frozen, kneeling on the carpet, covered in his own come. 

“Jared. On the bed. _Now._ ”

Jared lurched to his feet, stumbling around to the side of the bed, climbing on and laying flat on his back.

“You can prop yourself up, if you want to watch.” There was a small pile of metal parts on the bed, some alcohol pads, some lube packets... Jared flinched as Jensen touched him with a warm, damp cloth, cleaning him up a little.

“Relax.” After the cloth, Jensen meticulously cleaned the head of Jared's very soft cock with some of the alcohol wipes. _Why... why is he doing that?_

Jensen fixed a metal ring around Jared's balls and the base of his cock. It was snug, but not painful. He slipped Jared's cock through a cage of welded steel rings; it bent Jared's cock downwards. The cage clipped into the ring, and Jensen padlocked it. Jensen pulled a chain from under his dress shirt, showing Jared the key.

“This part could sting a little. Try not to freak out, okay? Have you ever done sounding?”

Jared blinked, completely uncomprehending.

“No, of course you haven't. Well, _this_ ,” Jensen held up a thin, hollow, curved metal tube, about two inches long, with a ball on the end. “This is going inside your cock.”

“W-what? N-no...”

“Yes. Be still.” Jensen carefully sterilized his fingers and the piece of metal, lubed it up, and positioned it at the slit of Jared's cock, at the tip of his new cage. Jared tried to move away, up the bed.

Jensen triggered a warning tingle from the collar. “Be _still_ , Jared. Or I'll put you under, and then do it anyway.”

Jared froze. Jensen gave him a hard look. “You're not going to want to move, while I'm doing this.”

It was the most bizarre sensation Jared had ever felt. It wasn't pain, not exactly, but it didn't feel amazing, either. It just felt... _weird_. Nothing had ever touched Jared there before. Soon, it stopped moving. Jared peeked down, and Jensen was screwing the small metal ball into the tip of the cage.

“There. The ball has a hole in it, so you can piss, or come, without taking it out. The cage is open enough that you can wash thoroughly. It's 'designed for long-term wear'.” Jensen smirked at Jared. “Which is what you're very certainly going to experience.”

Jared fought the fear rising in his throat. “How... how long... do I have to w-wear it, M-Master?” 

“That's completely up to you, Jared.” Jensen flashed him a brilliant grin. “It depends on a lot of things. How accommodating you are. How enthusiastic you are. How much initiative you show.”

 _Jesus. It's never coming off. Never._ Jared decided to push his luck. “Can... can I get a... window?”

Jensen shrugged. “A week? A month? Two months? Who knows. Like I said, it's up to you. And if you get desperate, while you've got it on, I can always milk you.”

Jared was feeling faint. _Two months?! Wait... did he say..._ “M-milk?”

“Yeah. Kind of like what happened to you earlier, only your cock can't get hard in the cage, and it's less of an orgasm, and more of a steady stream of come that just kind of leaks from you. You might like it. Some guys do.” Jensen shrugged again.

Jared shook his head, no.

Jensen chuckled and winked. “You might change your mind, after having blue balls for two months. Now. I'll give you a freebie. Bend over the bed, and beg me to fuck you, and I'll take a week off your chastity, right off the top.”

Jared froze, reclined on the bed. He shook his head slowly, no.

“No? Your loss. Remember, later, when you're begging me to let you come, that I gave you an easy out, and you turned it down. Now, come here.” Jensen slid off the bed, and moved to the foot, holding out a hand. Jared slipped off the bed, and walked around it to stand beside Jensen. The plug shifted inside him with every step, and the steel cage was an awful presence against and within him.

“Get into your position, Jared.” Jensen undid his zipper, and pulled out his hard, leaking cock.

Jared took a step backwards. “B-but, I s-said no...”

“I gave you the opportunity to beg me, Jared, and you refused. That doesn't mean you're not getting fucked. Get into your position.”

Jared took one more step backwards.

“If I have to tell you again, you are going to deeply regret what happens.”

Jared panicked, turned, and bolted for the door. He dropped, screaming, less than two seconds later, the collar shocking agony through his body. It stopped, and Jared curled up on the floor, sobbing.

“Get up.” Jensen's voice was icy.

Jared tried to pull himself together, pushing himself up to kneel, wiping at his eyes. It took some doing, but eventually he stood on shaky legs. He turned from the door, back towards his livid master. Jared knew that there were no apologies on the planet that were going to help him now.

Jared moved slowly, past Jensen, and bent over the foot of the bed, spreading his legs uncomfortably wide. His new cage pressed into the edge of the bed. Jared turned his face into the blankets.

“Do you want your punishment before or after you get fucked, Jared?”

Jared's heart stuttered. He didn't know... he didn't know which would be worse. He hesitated just a bit too long.

“After, then.” Jensen pulled Jared's plug loose, and Jared groaned. His ass felt loose and empty without it. Jared felt Jensen's cock at his entrance, pressing gently for a moment, before slamming in. It hurt, but there was none of the searing pain of Jared's first time.

“Does... does the plug help, Jared?”

Jared nodded into the blankets.

“You're fucking welcome.” Jensen pounded into Jared, chasing his own orgasm, and Jared endured, tearlessly and silently. Jensen finished sooner than Jared had expected. After Jensen pulled out, Jared immediately felt the steel plug nudging its way back inside him, its way slicked by Jensen's come.

Jensen took a moment to catch his breath, before walking to his closet. Jared turned his head, to peek at what Jensen was doing. Jensen returned, holding a heavy-looking, darkly stained wooden paddle.

Jensen saw Jared tense, and chuckled. “How many smacks with this do you think you deserve, for trying to escape, Jared?”

Jared, terrified, whispered, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Master, please...”

“Hush. Answer the question.”

Jared stopped his apologies. “F-five, Master?”

Jensen full-out laughed. “Five! Really! For an escape attempt? You're lucky I haven't had your sister picked up and gang-raped by the guards for that. And you think _five_ is appropriate??”

Jared's vision whited out with fear. _Megan, no._ “Tw-twenty, Master?”

“See, that's what _I_ was thinking, before you were stupid enough to say five. Now, I'm thinking that we'll see how you're doing after thirty, okay? You go ahead and scream, if you need to.”

Jared heard the whoosh of the paddle, and searing, bone-jarring pain was laid across his right ass cheek. He choked off his cry, pressing his face into the blanket. It went on and on, across his ass and the backs of his thighs, and Jared couldn't stop his tears. He couldn't keep count, and had no idea how far into his thirty they were. When Jensen hit him several times in the exact same spot, the scream was wrenched from him, and he tried desperately to get away, clawing at the blankets.

“Be.” _Wham._ “Still.” _Wham._ There was a pause, and Jared heard Jensen breathing heavily over his own sobs. “Keep your fucking position, or I'll double your thirty.”

Terror froze Jared, and stopped the breath in his lungs. He straightened his fingers, letting go of the blankets. “Good boy.” Jensen panted.

Jensen resumed, varying his targets, and Jared's sobs were forced from him with every strike. His entire backside and thighs were aching and burning before Jensen finally stopped. Jared prayed frantically for an escape to the disconnected grey space, but it just wouldn't arrive.

Jensen placed a hand against Jared's searing backside, while he caught his breath.

“I'm so sorry, so sorry, Master. I'm so sorry.” Jared choked out of his aching throat.

“I know you are, Jared. I know.”

“P-please, don't... don't hurt Megan...” An agonized whisper.

“I won't. This time. Don't give me reason to, in the future, Jared.”

“N-no, never, Master. N-never. I'm so sorry.”

Jensen called Henrik, who helped Jared limp, naked, back to his bedroom. Henrik said nothing about the cage or the plug, he simply helped Jared get ready for bed, and eased him onto his stomach to sleep. He dimmed the light, and touched Jared's hair lightly.

“H-Henrik? S-Sir?” Jared's voice was small and hurt.

“Yes?”

“C-could I... could I have a shot, please, S-Sir?”

“Of course.” Jared heard a quick rustle of cloth, before feeling the pinch of the needle in his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Jared managed to sigh out, before the drug swept him under.

He didn't hear Henrik's whisper, barely more than a breath, too soft for even the microphones to pick up. _”Mul on nii kahju, poiss.”_


	7. Chapter 7

Jared woke, feeling as though he had slept for a week. He groaned, trying to move. Every part of him felt as if it had been beaten. His ass and thighs throbbed, and even his cock hurt, in its unforgiving steel cage.

Jared heard a soft rustle of cloth from the direction of the door, and glanced over. 

It was _Jensen's father_. Terror flooded Jared.

“Good morning. Or, I should say, afternoon. You slept for a long time.” Jensen's father sounded pleasantly cordial. But if he was anything like his son, that didn't mean that Jared wasn't in for another beating.

“I brought you a gift.” The older man gestured to the sleek laptop resting on Jared's chest of drawers.

“Th-” Jared coughed, his throat dry. “Th-thank you for the laptop, Master.”

“You're welcome. Can you stand?”

“I... I'm not sure, M-Master.” Jared tried to move, and groaned in pain. Jensen's father moved to Jared, pulling down the blanket, and examining the mass of fresh bruises across Jared's ass and thighs. He saw the large steel plug, nestled between Jared's cheeks.

“What did you do, Jared, to deserve this?” His voice was soft.

“I... I tr-tried to escape, Master.” Jared whispered.

“And how far did you get? Down the hall? Down the stairs?”

Jared frowned, thinking. “F-four steps. Or... or f-five, Master. N-not even to the door of M-Master's suite.”

Jensen's father blinked. “Five steps,” he said, blankly.

Jared nodded, miserable. “Th-thirty, with... with a p-paddle.”

The older man's eyebrows shot up. “A leather paddle?”

“W-wood, Master. Heavy wood. O-oak, maybe?”

Jensen's father sighed. “And the plug?”

Jared shivered. “It's... it's to help me. Not... not hurt so much, when M-Master...”

“I see.”

“A-and the ch-chastity was b-because I came without p-permission...”

“Chastity?”

Jared rolled onto his side with a moan of pain, showing Jensen's father the cage. He crouched to look, not touching, and frowned. “Is that a urethral sound?”

Jared whimpered, lowering himself back onto his stomach. “It... it's inside me.” He held open a finger and thumb, demonstrating. “T-two inches?”

“Jesus.” Jensen's father's voice was soft. He stood, his knees creaking. “I'll send the doctor in, with a shot to get you mobile. She'll probably put you back on the pain meds for a couple of days.”

“Th-thank you, Master.”

The older man paused, one hand on the doorframe. “Enjoy the laptop.” He closed the door softly after himself.

Jared closed his eyes and waited for the doctor.

 

*

 

After a shot, a shower, and a few blissful minutes without the plug, Jared was feeling much better. A bottle of lube had appeared in the drawer in the bathroom, and Jared didn't dare not reinsert the plug once he was done. He had, however, run some warm water in the sink, and set the plug in there to soak beforehand, so it wasn't so damned cold. Even warm, it was still wretchedly uncomfortable.

He pulled on some clothes, and walked to his door. Henrik answered his knock.

“Yes?”

“Hi. Could... could I get some food, please?”

“Of course.” Henrik smiled, and closed the door gently.

The maid brought a silver tray shortly after. Jared lifted the dome, and was stunned. Lobster, steak, roast potatoes and a small mountain of steamed vegetables. And his small paper cup, containing a pain pill.

 _Jesus._ And he had been expecting kibble. It was delicious, all of it, and he ate until his stomach hurt. He downed his pill with the milk, and snagged the laptop from the dresser, bringing it back to the bed.

It was preloaded with an office software suite, several games, and Netflix. The Netflix somehow had internet access, though the laptop itself didn't appear to. Jared was pretty techno-savvy, but a lot of the system files were admin-only, and he didn't have access, so he couldn't figure out how they had accomplished it.

 _You know what they say about gift horses and mouths._ Jared smiled wryly.

Jared opened a new text document, thinking about writing something, and paused. _Keylogger. I'd be willing to bet my bottom dollar they put a keylogger on this._ Jared closed the blank document.

Jared had seen a couple of small notebooks and a few pens on the bookshelf earlier. _So they come in, and read what I've written. Nothing is private here. Nothing. There's no one to talk to, no one to confide in about how scared I am._ Tears burned in the corner of Jared's eyes.

The ideas in Jared's head turned themselves over. He opened a new text document, and typed, 'I know you're watching. I know. And I'm not going to give you any more reasons to punish me.” He saved the document and closed the laptop, placing it back on the chest of drawers. He picked a book at random from his shelf, laid down, the plug pressing against his prostate, and began to read.

 

*

 

Jensen called for him shortly afterwards. Jared followed Henrik wordlessly down the halls to Jensen's rooms. There was a loud burst of laughter from behind the doors as they arrived. Jared fought down his fear as he stepped through the doors.

Three sets of eyes watched him enter; bright green, and two sets of identical blue. Jared lifted his top off over his head, folding it neatly and putting it on the floor. He lowered his pants, and there was a low whistle of appreciation.

“Chastity, Jen? Nice. Maybe I should get one for Mish.” 

“Fuck off, Jimmy.” 

There was a whistle and a gasp, as Jared bent over to place his folded pants neatly on his shirt.

“Holy fucking shit, how is he even walking?”

“What the hell did you do _that_ with, Jen? And... is he wearing a plug??”

“New paddle. And yes. I got a cane and a crop, too, but Dad doesn't want me hitting him again until he heals.”

“Wow.” 

Jared glanced at the twins. One of them looked excited, and the other looked... jealous? He lowered his eyes, still standing in front of the door.

“Come over here, Jared. Let the twins see you.” Jensen's smile was venomous.

Jared kept his eyes on the floor as he walked to stand in front of the couch that the three boys were sitting on. One of the twins dropped to his knees in front of Jared, and reached trembling fingers to touch Jared's cage.

Jared caught a glimpse of excited blue eyes, flickering between his own eyes and the cage.

“You like it, don't you, Mish? You'd probably like it even more if you knew it had a two and a half inch urethral sound.” Jimmy's voice was taunting.

 _“Seriously?”_ Misha sounded amazed and quite acutely jealous.

“Turn around, Jared. Spread your legs a little. Touch the plug, Mish, and keep your fingers there.”

Jared turned, and Misha's fingers brushed his ass. The powerful vibrations started, and both Jared and Misha gasped. Jared felt the plug shift into the pulses that had nearly done him in last time, and he felt himself try to harden in his cage. The steel kept his cock bent downwards, and Jared felt his flesh press against the confining metal. He whimpered.

 _”Christ.”_ Misha sounded like he was going to have a stroke.

“Turn around, Jared.”

Misha moaned when he saw Jared's rigid, pained-looking flesh, contained within the steel. He was transfixed. “Does... does it hurt, Jared?” Misha's bright blue eyes sought out Jared's.

Jared nodded, biting his bottom lip, the plug in his ass still pulsing, and tears pricking in his eyes.

“Fucking hell, I have to try that.” Misha sat back on his heels, looking stunned.

“All right. Which one do you want first, the plug or the cage?” Jimmy grinned at his brother.

Misha turned to him, eyes wide. “What??”

“I had Jensen order them for you, as well, when he ordered them for Jared.” Jimmy's smile was remarkably dark, for someone who looked like an angel.

“Well, if it counts for anything, Jared had the plug in before he had the cage on.” Jensen put in his two cents' worth.

“Then that's how we'll do Mish, as well.”

“You... you're serious??” Misha's eyes darted between Jensen and his brother.

Jared trembled, trying to stay upright while the boys talked, trying to ignore the pulsing vibrations and the pain in his cock.

“Why don't you strip, and go over to Jared's spot, bent over the end of the bed there, brother?”

“Jared, come here and kneel.” Jensen's voice was soft. Jared knelt beside the couch, and the vibrations stopped. Jared heaved a shaking breath, and hung his head. Jensen's hand was suddenly in his hair, yanking his head back up. “No. You watch.” Jared forced his eyes to Misha, who was shimmying out of his jeans.

Misha bent over the bed, emulating Jared's most hated position. Jared saw that he was already hard. “Can Mish come from a cock up his ass?” Jensen inquired.

“Definitely.” Jimmy flashed Jensen a grin, the large steel plug in one hand, and the lube in the other.

“Then he can come on the plug. You'll have to let him, to get him soft enough to get into the cage.”

 _“Oh, God...”_ Misha moaned from the bed. He moaned louder when his brother slipped lubed-up fingers inside him, scissoring them. Jared watched, feeling sickened as Misha tried to push back on Jimmy's fingers.

“Calm down, slut. It's coming.” Jimmy lubed up the plug, and placed it at Misha's entrance.

Misha yelped as it pushed inside. “Fuck, that's cold!”

Jimmy chuckled and Jensen full-out laughed. “Jared said the same thing. It warms up fast enough, doesn't it, Jared?”

“Y-yes, Master.” Jared's voice was a whisper. His cock was aching, it seemed to be taking forever for it to lose its hardness.

“Good... good to know...” Misha gasped as the plug popped into position.

“All right, let's see what these buttons do.” Jimmy pulled out the remote for Misha's plug.

“One through three are vibe, four through six are pulse, and I haven't explored the rest of them yet. Jared seems to like six, it just about set him off yesterday.”

“Six, huh?” Jimmy pressed the button, and an utterly filthy moan ground its way from his brother's throat.

“Oh... oh... my... God...” Misha writhed against the bed.

“Jesus Christ.” Jimmy looked stunned. He pressed a palm, hard, against his crotch.

Jensen saw the movement. “As much fun as it'd be to fuck him when he's like that, the fucking comes _after_ we get the cage on.”

“God!!” Misha spasmed against the bed, coming hard against the blankets. He lay panting, cheeks flushed. Jimmy turned the vibration off. “That... that was awesome.” Misha grinned vacantly.

“Right, put him on his back, and go get the towel, alcohol swabs, lube packets and the cage.”

Jimmy helped Misha to lay down, and retrieved all the component parts. Jensen moved to the bed, to give Jimmy instructions on how to assemble the cage. Misha gave another guttural groan as Jimmy slid the sound inside his cock, fastening it in place.

Jimmy chuckled. “We've done sounding before. Mish loves it, look.” Even Jared could see Misha trying to harden against the cage.

Misha whimpered, looking down, his eyes bright. “Oh, God, Jimmy, it hurts...”

Jimmy's voice was sly. “Do you want it off, Mish?”

“No! No, God, no.” Misha flopped back on the bed, clearly overwhelmed by the sensations.

It was the exact opposite of what Jared wanted – he hated the cage with every fibre of his being. It hurt, yeah, and there was absolutely _nothing_ good about it.

“All right, get him up, and bend him over the foot of the bed. Hang the cage down, point it at the floor.” Jensen instructed.

Jimmy pulled a pretty out-of-it Misha off the bed, moving him to the foot, and bending him over as instructed.

“Now you can fuck him. Watch what happens, Jared.”

Jimmy groaned, pulling the plug from his brother, covering his cock in lube and sliding in. Jensen pulled Jared around to the side by the hand in his hair, so that Jared could see Misha's cage.

Misha shuddered as his brother slid in, and almost immediately, clear precome began to drip from the end of Misha's sound. “Oh, God, Jimmy, fuck me.”

Misha whined as Jimmy set a demanding pace, and his precome dripped more steadily, almost becoming a stream. Jared knew that Jimmy was sliding across Misha's prostate with every thrust. He felt the last of his erection wither, the cage no longer a painful, strangling presence. Jared was able to breathe a little deeper.

“Oh, God, Mish, so good on my cock. So good.” Jimmy was almost incomprehensible, his hands tight on Misha's hips. Misha groaned and shuddered, and the thin stream of precome turned milky white. He keened, shaking under his brother's thrusts, the white fluid sliding smooth and unhindered from his caged cock.

Misha gasped as the fluid slowed to drops. “Fuck, fuck, Jimmy...” He sounded dazed, and his brother slid into him one last time, painting Misha's channel with his release. Both brothers panted for a moment, silent.

“Pull out, but put the plug back into him. Lock all that come up in there.” Jensen advised. Jimmy did, and Misha shivered a little.

“What... what the hell was that?” Misha asked, his cheek still pressed to the bed. His eyes were wide and glassy.

“Prostate orgasm. It's totally different when you take your cock out of the picture, isn't it?” Jensen asked.

“Fucking hell. Did... did I come?”

Jimmy glanced at the puddle of white on the carpet. “Hugely. Especially considering it was your second time in half an hour.”

“Jesus Christ.” Misha lay limp and dazed against the bed.

“Did you like it, Mish?” Jensen asked softly.

“Hell yes.” Misha panted.

“See, Jared?” Jensen ran a hand through Jared's hair. “This is what you get to look forward to. Isn't chastity wonderful?”

 _Maybe if it was voluntary._ Jared shivered and stayed silent.

Jensen cuffed him upside the head, hard. Jared winced. “Y-yes, M-Master.”

Together, Jimmy and Jensen moved the still-dazed Misha over to the couch. Jimmy sat beside him, pulling Misha into his arms, whispering into his ear. Misha's eyes flickered shut.

“Come on, Jared, your turn. Get up here. Let's see how big of a mess you make, compared to Misha.” Jensen's grin was feral.

“M-Master?” Jared looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Up. Now. Into position.” A warning tingle crossed Jared's skin, and he stood, moving to the bed. Jensen pushed his face down on it, a hard hand at the back of Jared's neck. Jensen's other hand positioned Jared's cage off the edge of the bed, as Misha's had been.

Jared thought briefly, hysterically, of show cats, held by the scruff as they're manipulated. He managed to bite back his laughter.

It came out as a groan, a moment later, as the rolling pulses rocked Jared from the plug. _Oh, God, no no no no no..._ He felt himself harden painfully against the cage again. _How does Misha like this? How does_ anyone _like this?!_ Soft murmurs from the couch made Jared flush brightly.

The sensations of arousal were overwhelming. A huge wave, and Jared was pulled into it, whether he wanted to be or not. It was amazing and traumatic, and Jared thought that if he had to continue to feel it that he was going to shatter into a million pieces. It hurt and it felt phenomenal, and Jared thought he was going die if it didn't stop.

Suddenly, it did, as the still-vibrating plug was pulled from him, and replaced by his Master's cock. Jared whimpered softly as the sensations changed, it wasn't as overwhelming as the plug had been, but Jensen still nailed his prostate with every hard thrust, shoving small gasps from Jared's lips.

When Jensen finally stilled within him, Jared wasn't entirely sure which way was up. He knew now why Misha hadn't known if he had come – Jared didn't, either. _Oh, God, what if I came without permission? Wait, no, I'm already in chastity, what more could Master do? Other than... extend my chastity..._ Jared swallowed hard, lying very still, waiting for someone to say something.

Jensen pulled out, and slid Jared's plug back into position, thankfully no longer vibrating. “I guess that answers that question.” Jensen's voice was cool. Jensen hauled Jared backwards, on trembling legs, and forced his head down, to see the pool of his own come, mixed with Misha's. Jared blushed crimson.

“You guys have no idea, what that feels like, to not even know if you've come or not.” Misha's voice was tremulous from his spot on the couch, still in Jimmy's arms. Jimmy pulled him a little closer.

Jared knew exactly what Misha meant. Jensen pulled him by the back of the neck into the living room, shoving him to his knees beside one of the loveseats. Jensen collapsed on it, beside him.

“You guys like LotR, right? They're Jared's favourites.” Jimmy nodded at Jensen. Misha had his face buried in Jimmy's neck, and didn't answer. Jensen cued up the movie, and him and Jimmy watched. Misha, Jared thought, had fallen asleep curled naked against his brother. Jared knelt, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

Henrik came for him before the movie finished. Jared felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and glanced over – all of the boys were asleep. Jared gratefully followed Henrik back to his room. 

 

*

 

The following morning, Jared was reading after breakfast, when the plug suddenly started to vibrate. Jared lurched up, dropping his book, his eyes wide. _What the fuck?? But... but Master is at school..._ He groaned softly as he began to harden, pressing against the rings of the cage. _No, no, please..._ Jared pressed his palm hard, against the metal, to try to stop his body's response, but it did nothing. He whimpered, and the vibrations stopped.

Jared sat in bed, trembling. He felt violated. He _was_ violated.

It had been so much easier when Master had just beaten and raped him. It was horrible, of course, but it was so much worse to have his own body's arousal used against him, as a weapon.

Jared's breath was shallow, but the vibrations didn't start up again, so Jared picked up his book, laying back down to read some more. About an hour had passed, and Jared's erection had finally faded, when the vibrations slammed into him again. He groaned, curling up on his bed. He prayed for them to stop, feeling a wet spot forming on his pants, the waves of unwanted pleasure cycling higher within him.

And then it stopped again, leaving Jared panting on the bed, wet with his own precome. He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, washing the stickiness away with cool water. He nudge the water a little colder, shivering, but it did seem to help bring the erection down.

It happened three more times, before Henrik entered to invite Jared downstairs for dinner. Henrik found Jared curled up in the bottom of his shower stall, crying under the cold water. Jared was wrinkled and frozen and miserable, his lips bluish. Henrik towelled him off briskly, bringing a little warmth to his skin. He helped Jared dress, before leading the shivering boy to the dining room.

The elder Master Ackles noticed immediately that Jared was not well. Jensen, who was eating salad, didn't even look at Jared as he sank to his knees beside him.

“What's wrong, Jared, are you all right?”

“F-f-fine, M-Master.” Jared couldn't entirely keep the chattering of his teeth silent.

Jensen's father frowned. “You're clearly not fine. What happened?” He stood from his chair, moving to stand beside Jared. He lifted Jared's face with fingertips under Jared's chin, and took in Jared's pale face and blue-tinged lips.

“I... I spent too long in a c-cold sh-shower, M-Master.”

Jensen snorted into his salad. His father's head whipped around to look at him.

“What did you do, Jensen?”

Jensen pulled out the remote for Jared's plug and showed his father. “This.” Jensen pressed a button and Jared groaned immediately, hunching over, his forehead near the floor. “It's a vibrating plug. I've been teasing Jared with it all day.” He grinned up at his father.

Jensen's father plucked the remote from his son's hand, pressed the 'off' button, and smacked Jensen in the head.

“Ow! What the hell??”

“I swear to God, Jensen. I didn't get him for you to _torment._ He's here to give you _pleasure._ ”

Jensen scowled up at his father, rubbing his head. “Knowing that he's hard and aching in his cage and wants to come, but can't, that gives me pleasure.”

Jensen's father looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. There was a long pause. “Can you not, please, over dinner??”

“Fine.” Jensen snatched the remote back, and pocketed it. 

Jared thought he might vomit. 

“And put him in a warm bath, after we're done here. He needs to warm up.”

“Fine!”

The rest of dinner was silent. Afterwards, Jensen pulled Jared along the halls, his hand tight on Jared's wrist. When they got to Jensen's rooms, he flung Jared, stumbling, into the bathroom. “Run your own damned bath.” He walked out, slamming the door after him. Jared heard the television start up, out in the living room.

Jared's eyes widened, taking in Jensen's huge jacuzzi tub. It looked big enough to even fit Jared himself. He perched on the cool edge, running the water, watching it fill. Jared looked with some jealousy at the expensive bath products, but as he hadn't been told to use them, it was probably safer not to touch. He slipped into the hot water with a soft groan, submerging everything but his face. It was glorious. Jared had always loved baths, and since he had reached his current height, he'd yet to find a tub that he could lay like this in.

Jared felt himself warm, felt the tension and misery of the day slip away. It was heaven.

Until the plug started vibrating within him. 

Jared jackknifed up out of the water, pressing against the cage, and saw Jensen, smirking, standing in the doorway.

“Enjoying your bath?” Wide, innocent green eyes, over that smirk that was anything but.

“P-please, Master, no... no more...” Jared gripped the edges of the tub, his knuckles turning white.

“Did you come today, Jared?” Jensen sat on the edge of the tub, trailing fingers in the warm water.

“N-no, Master...” Jared shuddered, pleasure spiking through him around the pain of his strangled cock.

“Don't you want to come, Jared? I'll let you.” Wet fingertips glided up Jared's arm.

Jared choked, overwhelmed by the sensations. “N-no, no, please...”

“No? But I really think I'd like to see you spill into your bathwater.” Jensen reached under the water, adjusting Jared's cage. “I think you should watch, too. Open your eyes, Jared. Watch.”

Jared shook his head, no, his eyes tightly closed. He screamed a second later, his back arching as pain ripped through him from the collar.

“Watch, Jared.” Jensen's voice was unchanged. Jared opened watery eyes, looking down at his trapped cock under the water, Jensen gently stroking the skin between the metal rings.

Jared whimpered. The touch felt good, really good, even as his cock felt crushed. The plug shifted into pulse mode. The noise that left Jared's mouth wasn't entirely human. Jared suffered under the onslaught, thinking again that he'd surely lose his mind, and creamy whiteness slipped from the head of his cock, swirling in the currents in the water.

It stopped eventually, and Jared stifled a small sob, thinking it had to be over, but Jensen didn't turn off the plug. Tears slid down Jared's face. He was wildly over-sensitized, and the plug kept pulsing against his battered prostate.

“P-please! Please! Please, turn it off, M-Master, please!” Sobs broke from Jared's throat. 

“God, you make me so hot. Beg me to fuck you, and I'll turn it off.”

“Please, please, fuck me, M-Master. Please!” Jared was gripping the edges of the tub so hard that his hands were aching. He was caught in some terrible cycle of arousal and pain.

“Beg me to pound your ass.” Jensen moaned softly, one wet hand pressing against his crotch.

“Oh, God, please, t-turn it off, please! Please, p-pound my ass, p-please...” Jared would've said anything, if only the plug would stop.

It did. Jared sat, sobbing and gasping, in his lukewarm bath, one of his Master's hands still on his cage.

“Say it again.” Jensen's eyes were fixed on Jared's trembling form.

Jared pried one hand off the edge of the tub, wiping at his tearstained face. His chest heaved with sobs. “P-please pound m-my ass, Master.”

Jensen groaned deeply and froze on the edge of the tub. Jared dared a glance over at him, and saw a wet spot spreading on the front of Jensen's dress pants.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jensen gasped out, staring down at his pants. “You... you made me come in my fucking pants.” Jensen started to laugh, and was soon laughing loud enough that the entire bathroom rang with it, and he had slipped off the edge of the tub, landing on his ass, and still continuing to laugh.

Jared sat utterly still in the tub, not sure if he was going to be punished or not. His sobs died away into small hiccups as Jensen laughed his ass off on the floor.

“Get... get out, and dry off.” Jensen wiped his streaming eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. He got up off the floor, stripping out of his ruined pants. He walked back out to the living room, bare-assed, still chuckling.

Jared stepped from the tub, letting the water drain. He dried himself, mussing his hair with the towel, and left the bathroom. He didn't see Jensen in the living room, so he edged towards the bedroom. Jensen was naked, sprawled spread-eagled on the bed. His eyes were closed. The only thing Jensen still wore was the key to Jared's cage.

It struck Jared that this was the first time Jared had actually seen Jensen naked. He was well-built, and in another lifetime, he'd have thought him attractive. As it was, he wanted to strangle Jensen with the chain that the key was on, get out of the damned cage, and run as far and as fast as he could.

“Look, I know you hate the cage, all right? I know you're not like Mish, who gets off on it. So I'm gonna give you the opportunity to get it off.”

If that didn't sound too good to be true, Jared didn't know what did. “Master?”

“All you have to do is come over here, suck me until I'm hard, straddle me, take your plug out, and ride me until I come.” Jensen's eyes flickered open, and found Jared's, where he was peeking into the bedroom.

Jared's heart stuttered. This... this was something entirely new. This wasn't being shoved over a bed and fucked, or having a cock rammed into his throat. It wasn't just being used and accepting it, however unwillingly. Jensen wanted... active participation. _I can't... I can't_ rape _myself on him... that's... that's not even rape any more... but if it means getting this accursed cage off..._

Jensen folded his hands under his head, and crossed his ankles. “I'll give you another thirty seconds to decide, Jared.” Jensen stretched, arching his back, looking utterly relaxed.

 _Thirty seconds. How magnanimous._ Jared was utterly torn. 

“Last chance, Jared.”

“All... all right.” Jared blurted out, surprising even himself. 

“... the hell kind of answer was that?” Jensen raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I mean, yes, M-Master.” Jared flushed.

“Get to it, then.” Jensen closed his eyes and sank his head back into his pillows.

 _Just do what you have to do. Survive this, and the cage comes off._ Jared grit his teeth, sinking down on the edge of the bed beside Jensen's naked form. Jensen's cock was soft, in its nest of curls. Jared reached tentatively towards it.

“With your mouth.” Jared jumped, not realizing that Jensen had been watching him through slitted eyes. Jared retracted his arm, and shifted a little closer on the bed. Jared lowered his face to Jensen's cock, smelling expensive body wash and his come. _I can't... Do it. Just do it._

Jared licked his way up Jensen's cock, feeling it twitch beneath his tongue, hardening. “Jesus Christ.” Jensen's voice was a breathy gasp. Jared did it again and again, until Jensen was fully erect against his belly, the tip of his cock sitting in a small, shiny pool of its own making. Jared steeled himself, and ran the tip of his tongue through the pool of Jensen's precome, loathing the salty flavour, his tongue brushing the tip of Jensen's cock.

“Oh my God, Jared. Do that again.” Jensen watched with wide eyes as Jared forced himself to lap up the pool of precome. When it was gone, Jared fought down a shudder, and closed his lips over the head of Jensen's cock. He lowered his head, until the tip was nearing the back of his throat.

Jared glanced up, and saw Jensen's arms, corded with tension, his hands clenched into the pillow beside his head. Jensen was watching him, eyes brilliant, biting his bottom lip.

“Put... put my cock in your throat, Jared. Open it up for me. And keep your eyes on mine.”

 _I can't, I can't..._ Jared tried, lowering his head, feeling Jensen's cock nudging at his throat. Jared gagged, and felt tears prickle in his eyes. He pulled off, shuddering.

“It's all right, Jared. We'll get there eventually. You'll get used to my cock in your throat. We'll beat the gag reflex out of you. Now, get up here and ride me.” 

Jared forcefully shut down his thoughts, and shifted up onto the bed. He swung a leg over Jensen, straddling his hips. He reached behind himself, pulling at the steel plug with fumbling fingers. It slipped free, slick with lube, and Jared hated the feeling of emptiness.

Jared closed his eyes, kneeling up. He positioned Jensen's cock at his opening, and hesitated. _If you do this, there ain't no going back..._

 _Shut up, shut up, just shut up._ Jared lowered himself, Jensen's cock sinking inch by inch into him, until his ass was flush against Jensen's skin. His hands were tightly clenched on his own thighs. A whimper slipped from his lips.

“Ohmyfuckinggod.” The words left Jensen's mouth in a rush, and his back arched off the bed. “M-move, Jared, fucking move.”

If Jared had hoped he might have even a sliver of control in this position, he had been sorely mistaken. Jared lifted himself most of the way off, before sliding down slowly. He did it a couple of more times, and Jensen groaned.

“Harder.”

Jared lifted, and let himself drop, hard, onto Jensen's cock. His eyes flew open reflexively, and met Jensen's. Jensen's were glazed with lust. “Again.”

Jared clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out what he was doing, to block out Jensen's moans. He lifted himself and slammed back down, over and over again. He grit his teeth, trying to convince himself that it really didn't mean anything, giving in to Jensen this way.

Jensen's hands shot down and gripped Jared's hips, dragging Jared down and holding him there, hard. Jensen's hips rocked up against him, as he came inside Jared's ass. Both boys were breathing hard, and were silent for a moment.

“Off, get off. Put your plug back in.” Jensen lifted his hands from Jared's hips, flopping them against the bed.

Jared lifted off one last time, climbing off of Jensen. He reached for the plug, slipping it back inside his aching ass with another whimper.

Jensen gestured weakly to his nightstand, where his cell phone was. Jensen's eyes were closed. “Press... press 8, tell Henrik to come get you.”

Jared's eyes widened. He reached for the phone, dialed his home number quickly, and held it to his ear. Jared's heart was pounding.

“Hello?” It was Jared's dad.

“Dad? It's me, I'm okay, I'm...” The phone was ripped from Jared's hand. Jared saw Jensen's furious face, twisted in anger, before pain from the collar lit up every nerve in his body, wrenching a scream from him. The pain didn't stop, and the darkness swallowed him.


	8. Chapter 8

When Jared woke, everything was cold and pain and darkness. He felt his plug and his cage. He blinked in the blackness. Jared's nose was filled with the smell of the punishment cell - stale air and concrete dust. _No, no, no, please, no..._ Jared crawled to the wall, following it around until his fingers touched the cool metal door. He tucked himself into his corner, pulling his knees up under his chin.

He started, as the door opened. He blinked against the light streaming in from the hall.

“This is the last time, Jared, that I'm ever going to give you a choice.” Jensen's voice was icy. Jared turned his face back into his knees. “You stay here, until I'm ready to let you out, or I have your sister picked up, rape her myself, in front of you, and then give her to the guards.”

“Not... not Megan, please.” Jared choked out. “I'll... I'll stay.”

“I don't want to hear one fucking word from you, Jared. Not one word. No apologies, and no begging. After you pull that kind of shit, you'll be lucky if I don't have your vocal chords cut.” Jensen was livid. He paused for a moment, while Jared shook on the floor. “You say one fucking word, Jared, while you're in this room, and I'll guarantee that your family's safety is at stake. Am I clear?”

Jared nodded frantically into his knees.

Jensen crouched before him, close enough to touch. Jared felt a gentle hand on the back of his neck. “I'll make you choose, Jared, which one we kill first.”

Jared's panic spiked, and a whine slipped from his lips, before he was able to clamp them shut. Jared nodded again, shaking, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Good boy.” Jensen stood, and walked away. The door slammed shut with a deafening clang, and Jared was thrust into blackness again.

Jared cried, his forehead on his knees, panic tearing through him. Mentally, Jared pictured taking his voice and shutting it into a tiny box. He wrapped the box in chains, encased it in concrete, and sank it into the deepest water he could find. Not one word would pass his lips, no matter how bad it got. Not if it meant...

Jared shuddered at the thought of what Jensen had threatened. How could he _do_ that, pick a member of his family to die?! Jared practically felt his voice shrivel in his throat.

No, no, he wouldn't speak. Jared wasn't certain he'd ever speak again. He tried to calm himself, knowing that tears were just a waste of the water that he was going to need so very, very desperately. Slowly, they stopped. Jared rubbed hard at his face, trying to marshal his resources.

This was going to get bad, Jared knew it. Very bad. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do to change it, or stop it. But... was it worth it? His dad knew, now, that Jared was okay, that he wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Jared knew better than to think that he could be traced by the phone call, it had been too short, and he was certain that 'The Ackles Estate' had ways of making situations like that vanish.

And as of right this moment, none of his family was in imminent danger of being raped or murdered. As long as he kept his mouth shut.

Jared shifted on the floor, and the plug shifted inside him. A surge of hatred for it rose within him, and he knew better than to think that it was okay to remove it. If his masters wanted it out, they'd have removed it before turfing him in here, which meant they wanted it in. Jared prayed that it wouldn't start vibrating.

He wasn't sure that he trusted himself not to plead, if the plug started up, and that thought chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

Jared laid down on his side, curled up. He thought he might try to sleep, to pass the time. He wasn't tired, though, and just laid there, eyes closed. He knew that if he did sleep, he'd feel substantially worse when he woke – colder, sorer, more hungry and more thirsty.

He hoped that they realized, his masters, that he hadn't had much to drink before being thrown in here. A few sips of water with dinner. Jared already felt parched, and he swore that the concrete sucked the moisture out of him. 

_That disconnected, grey space would be really, really nice right about now._ But Jared didn't know how to summon it, how to make it happen. He sighed softly. _Maybe... maybe if things got bad enough... maybe it would come on its own._ Jared swallowed hard.

Jared did manage to sleep after a while, and woke up pretty much as he had expected – feeling even more wretched. He had to use the far corner of the room to relieve himself, and just as he remembered from the last time, the smell was awful.

 _What did one do, alone in the dark?_ Something, anything to take his mind off of how thirsty he was. He thought he had heard a story once about miners, trapped in a shaft, singing hymns, but that was kind of out of the question. Jared didn't even think he knew a hymn. Nor could he sing worth a damn, even if he was allowed to let words out of his mouth.

He tried listing prime numbers in his head, but didn't get very far before he got incredibly bored. He ran a hand across the rough concrete floor, counting each irregularity, but it wasn't much better than the prime numbers. He caught his frustrated sigh behind his lips, in case it counted against him.

Jared moved to the door, feeling for the crack where it met the frame. He stared intently at where his fingers told him the seam was, hoping for even a tiny speck of light, but there was nothing but the unrelenting dark.

And it _was_ unrelenting. He felt as if it was pushing against him, like a physical force, trying to choke him. He retreated to his corner, closing his eyes. He imagined himself in a better place, before any of this had happened. He was walking, a grin on his face, smiling down at a pretty blonde girl on his arm. She smiled up at him and blushed. It was dark there, too, but lit with streetlights and the stars and moon overhead. A warm, safe kind of dark, with someone he cared for.

Jared's heart froze for a moment. He couldn't remember the girl's name. She... she had been his girlfriend, when he was a little younger, and he couldn't remember her name. It felt like trying to remember something from someone else's life.

 _The only name you need to remember is Master._ Jared cursed the snide voice in his head.

Even remembering being happy felt foreign to him. He'd known nothing but misery, violation and pain since he'd been taken. With so many forced periods of unconsciousness, he had no idea how long he'd been suffering at Jensen's hands for.

Jared leaned his head back against the wall with a thump. He stared blindly into the darkness. It really was torture, to know how bad it was going to get, remember how bad it had been last time. And it was terrifying, to not know how much worse it was going to be. How was he supposed to just sit here, thinking, and knowing he'd need medical intervention, once he got out?

 _Well, at least the plug isn't going. Small blessings._ Jared lowered himself back down to the dusty floor, willing sleep to come. To his immense surprise, it did.

When he woke next, Jared felt sicker than he had ever felt in his life. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry and gummy, and his lips were dry and cracked. He stomach rolled, threatening to throw up acid and bile. Jared laid very still, trying very hard not to vomit. The nausea passed, but the aching emptiness didn't. He felt weak and drained and wretched. And he had to use his corner again.

He had to crawl there – when he tried to stand, his legs wouldn't hold his weight. And the smell brought his nausea back in spades, when he was done. He crawled back to his corner, pressing his face against the concrete, trying to block out the smell. Nothing that he did helped in the least.

 _Stanford._ Jared was rotting in a pitch-black cell, sick and dehydrated and starving. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it, to scream until his throat bled, and he couldn't. Not if he valued the lives of his family. Jared had a horrible vision, of Jensen dragging a screaming Megan into his foul-smelling cell, forcing her onto the floor and raping her. While smiling at Jared, those brilliant green eyes glittering. Jared knew Jensen would do it, too. There were no empty threats, with him.

Imagining his sister's screams echoing around his filthy cell seemed to trigger the shift to blankness that Jared had been wanting so desperately. He turned and sat silently in his corner, his legs splayed in a V in front of him, not feeling any urge to scream or rail or fight.

 _All I can do is wait, so that's what I'll do._ He leaned his head back against the concrete and closed his eyes, grateful, so grateful that the pain and sickness and horror at his situation all seemed to be purely academic.

 

*

 

When Henrik walked into Jared's cell after the two days had passed, the boy didn't even acknowledge him. He was propped in the corner, his eyes closed, as he had been for more hours than Henrik cared to think. There was dried blood on his cracked lips. When Henrik moved to lift him, his eyes flickered open, empty and glassy.

 _Henrik. That... that's good._ Jared's thoughts were fleeting and scattered. His head felt really, really heavy, and he just let it land against Henrik's shoulder. His eyes didn't seem to be working very well... everything was blurred. Jared made a concerted effort to blink, but it just made his eyes hurt more. He gave up on it pretty quickly, just watching the blank walls pass as Henrik carried him.

Jared squinted a little when they entered the doctor's office, the lights seemed much brighter in there. The doctor noticed his reaction, and moved to dim them, which was much better. There were soft voices of Henrik and the doctor talking, about him, probably, but it didn't seem very important. 

Henrik laid him on the examination table. The crinkly paper actually felt nice against his skin – a pleasant change from rough concrete. The doctor tucked a soft pillow under his head, a gentle hand lingering on his forehead. Jared closed his eyes. There was some more murmured conversation, and the sound of the door opening and closing.

The doctor's voice was soothing on Jared's nerves, even if he couldn't be bothered to really try to understand what she was saying. And the room smelled nice, too, some sort of faint antiseptic smell, so very unlike the concrete dust and his own waste. And it was warm, too, and it got even warmer when the doctor pulled a soft blanket up over him. He frowned, just a little, when he felt the prick of a needle in the back of his hand, but he didn't try to pull away.

The best part, Jared thought, was when he felt something cold, really cold, and wet against his lips. He opened them a little, and a small chip of ice fell against his dry, swollen tongue. It was heaven, and when it was gone, he opened his cracked lips for more. There were enough that Jared's mouth began to feel a lot better. But he was so tired, he thought that maybe he'd just have a bit of a sleep.

His head lolled against the pillow, and Jared was out like a light.

 

*

 

Henrik slipped back into the doctor's room, to see how Jared was doing.

“He's resting. He'll get better from here on in, but it'll probably take a couple of days.” She looked sadly at the broken boy on her table.

“Has he spoken?” Henrik's voice was low.

She shook her head. “I'm not even sure he's heard anything I've said.”

The two of them watched Jared silently for a time. 

“They're going to kill him.” The doctor's voice was barely a whisper.

Henrik nodded, turned, and left the room.

 

*

 

Jared woke, and every ache and pain was real and immediate. _Well, fuck._ He tried to sit up, but there was a strap across his chest, pinning him to the table.

“Sorry, sorry. It's just that the table's really narrow, and I didn't want you falling off.” The doctor moved to remove the strap, and helped Jared to sit.

“Are you... are you feeling any better?” Jared nodded, keeping his eyes down. “Do you need the washroom?”

 _Quite desperately._ Jared slipped down off the table, legs shaking, and the doctor helped him into the washroom, mindful of the IV tubing still emerging from the back of Jared's hand. She left, closing the door behind her. Jared used the facilities, washed his hands and face, and drank some water from his cupped hands. He ran wet fingers back through his hair, and looked at himself in the mirror, leaning heavily against the counter.

 _You're broken, Jared. Broken._ There wasn't any arguing with the voice in his head, this time. He sighed softly. His eyes looked dull and dead, and had lost the sparkle and shine they once had. His skin looked thin, pale, pulled too tightly across his bones. He wondered vaguely when the last time he had seen the sun was.

Jared returned to the office, and laid back down on the exam table. The doctor turned to him, bringing a small bottle of something with a straw. Jared propped himself up, accepting it from her, and took a sip. _Ugh._ One of those sickly-sweet high-calorie meal replacements, it seemed to be. He drank it all without complaint.

“I know, they're kind of gross, but we have to get all your systems back online. Sorry.” The doctor smiled apologetically. Jared nodded.

“Can... can you talk to me, Jared?” The doctor's voice was nothing but kind, but terror flared in Jared's heart. _My sister, raped._ He shook his head, emphatically, no.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. It's all right.” Jared's heartbeat took a long time to settle back to its normal rhythm. He laid back against the table, weak and shaking.

“He threatened you, didn't he, that something terrible would happen if you spoke.” There was incredible sadness in the doctor's voice. Jared glanced at her, and saw her eyes glittering with tears. He turned his head away, staring at the ceiling. Jared knew she didn't really need an answer.

Jared knew that she felt sorry for him, for what was happening to him. And he also knew that while she could patch him up, after the abuse he suffered, that it was beyond her power to really help him.

Three days, Jared spent in the doctor's office, regaining his strength, before he was able to walk on his own. The doctor was nice, but he wanted to go back to his room, to his books and his comfortable bed. He was glad when Henrik finally arrived to escort him there. 

The first thing Jared did was shower. _Forever, or until the hot water runs out, whichever comes first._ The doctor had helped him wipe some of the grime from the cell off, but it didn't compare to feeling the hot water sheet across his skin.

Afterwards, not feeling particularly hungry after all the sweet liquids the doctor had made him drink, he reinserted the plug, dressed, and pulled the laptop over to the bed. He'd never really been one for watching television – it was a little too mindless for his liking. And he wasn't in the mood for a movie, so he looked again at the games that were loaded onto it. They were older, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He found one called Age of Mythology – he had had that himself, ages ago, and had really enjoyed it.

Jared was in the middle of calling down tornadoes onto the little yellow and pink enemies in his game when the door opened. He glanced up, expecting Henrik, but it was Jensen's father again. Jared's heart stuttered in his chest, and he slowly closed the laptop, game forgotten.

“Good morning. I trust, by now, that you've realized the foolishness of your actions.” The older man sat on the edge of the bed, near Jared's feet. He pulled them up defensively, sitting cross-legged. He lowered his head, nodding, staring at the blanket.

“There was some debate, in the household, about whether or not to punish your sister for your transgression. You handled your time on punishment well, though, and it wasn't deemed necessary, at this time.”

 _At this time. Oh my God._ Jared nodded again, trembling.

“You know, Jared, that you were only forbidden to speak while in the punishment cell. It's perfectly all right to speak now. We haven't modified you to prevent that, if that was what you were worrying about.”

 _Modified me._ Jared thought of his voice, in concrete at the bottom of the lake. For his family's safety. He shook his head, hunching into himself a little. 

Jensen's father sighed. “I won't force you to speak, but I can't say the same for my son. He enjoys hearing you beg for things that I know full well you don't want. He is likely to pry your words from you, with pain, regardless of how tightly you hold on to them.”

Jared shook a little harder, and managed to make himself nod, just a little. Jensen's father left the room.

 

*

 

Jared suffered through his bowl of pellets that night, after declining the offer to dine with his masters. He knew that it was only prolonging the inevitable, but he wanted to stay away from Jensen for as long as he could.

Sure enough, shortly after he had finished, Henrik came in to escort him to Jensen's room. And sure enough, the twins were there. Jimmy and Jensen were on the couch, playing a video game, but Misha was sprawled naked on his back on the bed, seemingly senseless, his cage and plug identical to Jared's.

 _Maybe they worked out their frustrations on Misha, and they'll leave me alone._ Jared stripped slowly, leaving his clothes neatly by the door.

“He's not looking so great, Jen.” Jimmy had been eyeballing Jared, who stood before the door, unmoving.

“Yeah. He's had a rough week. Spent part of it in the punishment cell, didn't you, Jared?” Jared nodded slightly. “I think maybe he needs some protein.” Jared glanced up through his hair, and saw Jensen's venomous smile. His heart plummeted.

“I think we can help with that. Go on and join Misha on the bed, Jared. Go suck his cock.” Jimmy's voice was polite.

 _Don't say no. Don't speak. Just get through it._ Jared hesitated for a moment, before Jensen snapped, “Go.” Jared moved stiffly to the bed, curling up between Misha's legs. He wasn't sure the twin even knew he was there. He lowered his head to Misha's cock, and licked at the flesh between the welded steel rings.

Misha groaned, a hand moving to the back of Jared's head. Glassy blue eyes flickered open. Jared took Misha's cage into his mouth, mindful of the metal against his teeth. And then, it started to vibrate.

Misha groaned, and Jared knew the plug was vibrating hard against Misha's prostate. Jared closed his eyes, very still as Misha's grip tightened on his hair, and he thrust into Jared's mouth. It didn't take long for Misha to begin to come, his spend landing on Jared's tongue. Jared swallowed it down.

“Jimmy... Jimmy, please...” Misha gasped, and the steel in Jared's mouth stopped vibrating. Jared pulled off of him and looked down, Misha was panting as though he had run a marathon. Jared felt ill.

“Want more, Jared?” Jensen's voice was sickly sweet, as though he were offering chocolate, or steak or something. Jared froze – he couldn't say no, and he couldn't say yes.

“Get over here, on your knees, and suck Jimmy off.” The steel in Jensen's voice left no room for hesitation or argument. Jared slid off the bed, and landed on his knees with a thump. He crawled to where Jimmy and Jensen were standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He didn't need to look up to know that the legs in the ratty jeans, on the right, belonged to Jimmy. He knelt between Jimmy's boots, looking up high enough to unfasten Jimmy's belt and lower his fly. Jimmy was already hard, and Jared's trembling fingers pulled him from his jeans. 

“Fuck, Jared, you're hot.” Jimmy's voice was rough with lust, and his fingers sank into Jared's hair, harsher than his brother's had been. Jared closed his eyes, and felt Jimmy's thumb against his bottom lip, pulling his mouth open. Jared let it happen, and Jimmy thrust into his mouth with a groan.

Jimmy moved his other hand to the back of Jared's head, and pulled him, hard, onto his cock, forcing his way into Jared's throat. Jared choked briefly, before resigning himself to holding his breath. He felt the phantom touch of Misha's hand on his throat, his voice in his ear. Jared swallowed around Jimmy's length, over and over.

“Is... is he as good as I am, Jimmy?” Misha's wrecked voice came from the bed.

“Not... not nearly. But he's... he's... not awful. Oh, God...” Jimmy spilled down Jared's throat. Jimmy let go and Jared pulled off, coughing and gasping, his eyes tearing up. Jared's head was wrenched back, and Jensen's face was in his, twisted with anger. 

“How's that gut full of come feel, Jared?” Jensen shook Jared hard, by the hair. Jared whimpered, his hand coming up to cover Jensen's. “Does my little cock-hungry slut need more?” Jared hoped his eyes said what his mouth couldn't. Nausea swelled within him.

Jensen fumbled his belt off and his fly down, his hand still clamped in Jared's hair. “Open,” Jensen hissed. Jared opened his mouth and closed his eyes, squeezing tears out as Jensen viciously used his throat. It was aching and burning and clearly Jensen didn't care, filling Jared's mouth with come before withdrawing.

“Show me.” Jared tilted his head back a little, showing Jensen the mouthful of come.

“Swallow.” Jared shut his mouth and swallowed, Jensen's grip still hard in his hair. Jared risked a peek – Jensen looked angry and disgusted and... disappointed, maybe? Jensen released Jared's hair and Jared immediately lowered his head, staring at the floor. He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, fighting not to vomit.

“Get in position over the end of the bed, Jared, and stay there. One of us may want to use your hole tonight.” Jared saw Jensen and Jimmy return to the living room and flop down on the couch.

 _Not a whore... I'm not a whore._ Jared climbed to his feet, bending over the end of the bed with his legs spread.

 _'Not a whore,' huh? Except you just sucked three cocks in a row._ Jared cursed the snide voice in his head, but he knew he couldn't really argue. He was bent naked over a bed, waiting for someone to want to fuck his ass. It didn't really get a whole lot more whorish than that.

Jared heard a soft _snick_ noise from above him, and turned his head to look. Misha had the key to his padlock, and was removing his cage with a soft groan. There were red impressions of the steel rings dented into the skin of Misha's cock.

Jealousy flared within Jared. He didn't think he'd ever be let out of his again. He turned his face away from Misha, pressing his cheek against the blanket, staring at the blank wall. He felt Misha slide from the bed, and heard him tugging his clothes back on.

“You know.” Misha's voice was right beside his ear. “It's really not that bad. You should be grateful you don't have it worse.” Misha's tongue licked along the edge of Jared's ear, and he bore it, still and silent.

Misha left the room, and crawled into his brother's lap, burying his face into Jimmy's neck. Jimmy wrapped his arms around him, and resumed his game, chatting with Jensen.

Jared drifted, alone and exposed in the bedroom, as the boys ordered pizza, ate it noisily, and argued over video games. It felt like hours, and Jared's hips were cramping badly. He shifted his feet a little closer together, to try to relieve the pain.

“Keep your fucking position, Jared.” Jensen's voice cracked like a whip from the living room, and Jared slid his feet back out. He trembled as he heard someone approach. He felt a warm hand against his hip.

“I'm a reasonable guy, Jared, don't you think so?” Jimmy, it was Jimmy. He had that creeping sense of superiority in his voice that his brother lacked. Jared nodded hesitantly. “I'm glad you think so. I'm not just going to go ahead and fuck you. I'm going to give you a choice.” Jimmy's hand stroked down Jared's flank. “Would you rather be fucked, or caned?”

Jared whimpered. _Neither, neither, Oh God, neither..._ Jimmy gripped his hips and bent over him, whispering. “Just between you and me, your master wants you punished. And it'd probably be safer for you if I did it. So choose the cane, all right? And let him hear you.” Jimmy stood up, his hands still on Jared's hips.

“So. Fucking?” Jared shook his head, no. “Caning?” It took everything Jared had to move his head in a small nod. “All righty then. Feel free to scream, Jared, if you need to.”

Jared felt something cool and very slender trail across his skin. Something told him that in a few seconds, it wouldn't be feeling so nice. 

A stripe of fire laid itself across his ass cheek. Jared yelped, unable to stop himself. It felt _nothing_ like the paddle Jensen had beat him with – there wasn't any bone-jarring thud, it was all heat and sting in fine, fine lines. Jared could feel the welts rising on his skin. Jimmy was bizarrely precise – he didn't feel any crisscrossing or overlap at all. Jimmy increased his force, and it shook a deep groan from Jared's throat. He pressed his face into the blankets to muffle it, only to feel Jimmy's hand in his hair, twisting his face to the side. Jimmy's hand pressed Jared's cheek for a moment, and Jared got the message. _Let him hear you._

It was when Jimmy started to overlay harder strikes across the welts that he had already made that Jared started to sob. Jimmy kept swinging, laying heat and agony across Jared's skin, and Jared's tears wet the blanket, the sobs torn from his throat. There was a pause, and he felt Jimmy lean down over him again.

“Just a couple more, okay?” A whisper into Jared's ear. “I'm sorry, but he's not gonna be happy until you scream. These are gonna break skin. I'm sorry.”

Jimmy stood back up, and panic swamped Jared. _Oh God, oh God..._

Pure, liquid fire across Jared's skin, and he screamed. Jimmy did it again and again, and Jared's scream cycled up into a shriek. When Jared thought he couldn't possibly take one more strike, Jimmy stopped. Jared devolved back into choking sobs, clawing weakly at the blankets.

“Jesus Christ, Jimmy.” Jensen sounded gobsmacked. “He's never made those noises for _me._ ” 

“It's practice, man, and knowing your tools. Jared's done, but I can show you on Mish.” Jimmy nudged Jared's legs together and helped him stand, moving him to lie face-down on the bed.

“I don't get a vote, as to whether the two of you are going to tan my hide?” Misha sounded indignant, from the living room.

“You want a vote, do you, Mish?” Jimmy laughed.

“No.” Misha admitted, grudgingly. Jared heard Misha come into the bedroom and start removing his clothes.

Jared let his attention wander. He vaguely heard Jimmy instructing Jensen, and Misha's gasps and groans. The snap of the cane against Misha's skin. Much more important were the throbbing, searing welts across his backside and thighs. He wondered why Jensen hadn't called for Henrik, if the boys were done with him. He was content, though, to be ignored and lay against the soft blankets of Jensen's huge bed.

A yelp from Misha dragged Jared from his thoughts. “Hey, hey, easy now.” Jimmy's voice was gently reprimanding. “If you're gonna hit someone like that, it's gonna be Jared, not my brother.”

“Sorry, Jimmy. Sorry, Mish, I didn't mean to.” Jensen sounded authentically apologetic.

Jared frowned. _Once, only once, has he ever apologized to me._

“S'okay... can... can I come now, please, Jimmy?” Misha sounded frantic, and Jimmy and Jensen laughed.

“How often does Jimmy let you fuck him, Mish?” Jensen sounded curious.

“N-never. It... it doesn't work that way.” Jared felt the bed move as Misha squirmed.

“Never! Have you _ever_ fucked anyone in the ass, Mish?” Jared felt a swoop of sick horror in his gut – he was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“N-no, Jen. Jimmy, _please..._ ” Misha pleaded with his brother.

“Have I got a treat for you, Mish. Jared, get down here, now.” Jared glanced down, and saw that the boys had lifted Misha off the end of the bed. His arm was wrapped around his brother's waist.

Jared didn't even think about disobeying. He moved gingerly to the edge of the bed, sliding off onto his feet. He swayed, dizzy, and leaned against the bed for support, moving around to the end. Jensen got impatient with him, shoving him face-down and kicking his legs apart. 

Jared felt fingers against his plug, removing it slowly and gently. They touched his fluttering, stretched rim. “You... you're sure? Jimmy?”

“Go nuts, baby bro.” Jared felt cold lube against his skin, and a cock sank into him. Jared closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensation.

Misha groaned. “Oh my God.” Jensen and Jimmy chuckled. Jared felt cool hands against his waist, well above the myriad of welts across his ass. The touch was gentle - not the rough, punishing grips that Jared had become used to. Misha moved slowly within him, and another soft groan left his lips. “God, Jared, you feel so good...” Misha pushed all the way in and froze, coming within Jared with a gasp.

Jimmy sniggered behind him. “Two-pump chump.” 

“Fuck you, Jimmy. Fuck you.” Misha pulled out slowly, and carefully reinserted Jared's plug.

“You've got blood on you, get it off before you put your jeans back on.” Jensen noted.

Jared heard Misha retreat to the bathroom, muttering. Jimmy and Jensen's voices retreated to the living room. Jared heard Misha emerge, and felt a hand touch his upper back lightly. “Thanks.” Misha pressed a kiss to Jared's cheek, before joining his friends in the living room.

 _My pleasure, absolutely. Thanks for not asking if I was okay with it, and thanks for not raping me as hard as everyone else seems to want to._ Jared stifled his uncontrollable giggle in the blankets.

Jimmy used him a little bit later, hard, but not cruelly. Jensen used him after that, cruelly. Jared was aching and trembling, covered with welts and finger-shaped bruises, smeared with blood and come and lube, and still in position when Henrik was summoned to take him back to his room. Jared crumpled to his knees when he tried to stand up from the end of the bed, and Henrik carried him.

Once Jensen's door closed behind them, Henrik asked Jared if he needed the doctor. Jared shook his head. _Shower, sleep. That's the ticket._ Henrik watched over him as he showered, and Jared was grateful – he didn't particularly want to fall and crack his skull. Henrik helped him lay down on his stomach, and dabbed something cool and faintly tingly on the damaged skin of Jared's ass. Jared turned his face towards Henrik, the question in his eyes.

“Antibiotic. Anaesthetic. It will help you rest and heal.” 

Jared nodded his understanding and yawned. Henrik draped a towel across him, and pulled up his blankets.

“You are welcome. Sleep now.”

It was good stuff, too, the cream Henrik had applied. He felt the searing heat fade, and fell asleep so quickly that he didn't even hear Henrik leave.


	9. Chapter 9

When Jared woke, he saw a note on his nightstand. He blinked and wondered what it could be. When he opened it, the handwriting was messy: 'Six loads in one night – that's got to be some kind of record, for someone who's not a whore. I'll be expecting you to show your gratitude tonight.'

Jared dropped the note, leaned off the edge of the bed, and vomited bile and acid on the floor. He was still retching as Henrik entered. Henrik moved to the washroom and wet some towels, putting one down on the floor, and offering the other to Jared. Henrik sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Jared's back with one huge hand as Jared wiped at his mouth.

Henrik gave Jared a moment, before asking, “Are you all right?”

Jared nodded, feeling anything but all right. He felt fouled, desecrated. He watched as Henrik bent over to pick up the note, and read it. Jared felt himself flush in humiliation, but Henrik said nothing, folding up the note and tucking it into a pocket. Henrik cleaned Jared's vomit from the floor, and stood.

“I'll send for a light breakfast. Eat, if you are able.” 

Jared nodded as Henrik left.

 

*

 

“ _Six_ , Jensen?” Jensen's father's hand smoothed the note against the top of his desk. “How in the hell did you manage _six_??”

Jensen was angry. _Fucking Henrik._ “Two each - me, and Jimmy, and Misha.” Jensen muttered resentfully.

Jensen's father blinked, disbelieving. “You... you let your friends use Jared?”

“I _actively encouraged_ my friends to use Jared, actually, Dad. He needed to be punished, and so I punished him.”

“He was more than adequately punished by spending two days in the cell.” The older man's voice was icy.

“Well, I thought he needed more. And he's _mine_ , so it's my decision. And he'll be getting more punishment tonight.”

“No, he won't, as I'm restricting your access for another week, until you can calm yourself down enough to realize that he's already more than paid the price for his mistake.”

Jensen stood, furious, and glared at his father for a long moment, before storming from the room.

 

*

 

After lunch, but before dinner, Henrik entered Jared's room again. Jared paused his computer game, looking up at him shyly.

Henrik smiled down at him. “You will not be interacting with young Master Ackles for another week. You will not be required to dine with him, nor spend time in his quarters. Understood?”

Jared felt a sweeping sense of relief. He nodded, and lifted a flat hand to his face, his fingers touching his lips. He lowered his hand towards Henrik, looking a little uncertain.

Henrik, who knew a little sign language, immediately recognized Jared's thanks. 

“You are welcome. Though you should be thanking the elder Master Ackles, it was his decision.”

Jared nodded, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. He ducked his head back down, and Henrik left.

 

*

 

By the end of the week, Jared was feeling much better. With a steady stream of delicious food from the chef, and a lack of rape and abuse, he was feeling almost normal. On the last day of his week away from Jensen, Jared worked up his nerve, and handed Henrik a note.

Jared fidgeted as Henrik unfolded it and read.

'I know this is asking a lot, please, Henrik, but could I please go outside? For a few minutes? Or stand at a window for a while, please? I need to feel the sun on my face. Please.'

Henrik's face was impassive. He folded the note, as he had Jensen's, and tucked it into his pocket. “I do not have the authority to grant this request. I will ask Master Ackles.”

Jared nodded and signed his thanks, and Henrik nodded and left.

Jared was startled when Henrik returned only a few minutes later, carrying a heavy coat and a pair of winter boots. Henrik smiled at the look of utter amazement on Jared's face.

The boots felt very, very strange on Jared's feet, after so much time spent barefoot in the manor. He clomped along the halls behind Henrik, swathed in the oversized jacket. Jared suspected it might be Henrik's own. He took the opportunity to look, really look at the house as he was lead through it. 

It was beautiful, of course, well appointed, and, Jared was shocked to find, tastefully decorated for Christmas. There was a huge tree decorated in monochrome silver in a formal sitting room.

 _Months... I've been here for months??_ Jared was stunned. As Henrik led him out a rear door, Jared stopped in his tracks, his hand clutched on the doorframe.

 _Snow. There's snow everywhere._ Jared blinked against the blinding sunlight, at the glare of the light off the snow. The air was incredibly crisp and clean. They were clearly somewhere out in the country, as Jared couldn't hear so much as a single car. 

_Jensen's curtains are almost always closed. And it's not like I can see much, face-down on the bed._ Jared took a hesitant step down, and his foot crunched into the snow. He glanced up at Henrik nervously.

“If you run, I will stop you. They'll throw you in the cell, and I do not know if you'll come back out.” Henrik looked deadly serious.

Jared swallowed his terror, and nodded. He took a few steps, slowly, away from the house. He seemed to be on some sort of patio, the shapes of the furniture lost under heaps of snow. He glanced at the rolling grounds – there were no fences in sight, but Henrik's threat echoed in his head. Jared's breath fogged in the air, and he lifted his face up towards the sun. Jared turned, and let himself fall backwards into the untouched snow with a _floomp_ , arms extended and legs spread. Jared heard Henrik's chuckle. Jared closed his eyes against the light, his vision filled with brilliant red through his eyelids. He felt the snow under his hands, and melting against his pants. It was cold and wet and absolutely glorious. 

When Jared started to shiver uncontrollably Henrik insisted that they return inside. He led Jared back to his room, collected the jacket and boots, and made Jared change into dry pants. He smiled at Jared and was turning to leave when Jared flung himself at Henrik, hugging him tight. Henrik reached around Jared, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Jared was so grateful. He couldn't express it to Henrik right now, but he was pretty sure Henrik got the idea. Henrik gave Jared one more squeeze, before extricating himself from Jared's long arms, and leaving the room.

 

*

 

Jared was on pins and needles the following day, waiting for a summons, but it didn't come until after dinner. In Jensen's suite, he stripped and stood with his back to the door, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced up quickly, and saw the back of Jensen's head, as he worked on something on the computer. Jensen didn't even acknowledge his presence.

Jared's anxiety ratcheted up with every minute that Jensen ignored him. His knees shook, and Jared lowered himself to kneel before he fell.

“Got anything to say, Jared?” Jensen spun in his office chair, staring at Jared's kneeling form.

Jared dropped his eyes, and shook his head, no.

“You think I haven't noticed that you haven't spoken a single word, since you came off punishment?” Jared heard steps towards him, and Jensen's feet entered his field of view. Jared shook his head again, hesitantly. “Did I scare you that badly, that you won't even speak any more?”

Jared nodded, just a little, heart pounding. _Megan. My family, dead._

“You know what's going to happen, if you don't start answering my questions, the way you know you're supposed to? _You're going to end up back on punishment._ Is that what you want, Jared?”

Jared choked, panicking. _No, no, please, no._ He shook his head frantically.

Jensen made a soft tsking sound, and shook his head. He lifted Jared's chin with his fingertips, making Jared look at him. Jared's eyes were wide with panic, filled with tears. Jensen's were perfectly calm. “Last chance, slave. Do you want to go back on punishment?”

Jared's mouth opened, as he frantically hauled his voice up from the deep water, chipped off the concrete, and yanked the chains off. “N...” Jared coughed. “N-no. M-Master.” His voice was rusty with disuse, and sounded strange in his own ears.

“There. That wasn't so hard, was it.” Jensen's smile was lethal. “Now, let's try a few more words. Beg me to fuck you.”

Jared's voice froze in his throat. Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to fuck you, or fuck Megan?”

“M-me, fuck me, please. Please.” Jared pleaded brokenly.

“Get into position on the bed, pull out your plug, spread your cheeks, and say that again.” Jensen released Jared's chin and stood, stretching. One eyebrow raised again, as Jared failed to move. 

_Megan. Do it for Megan._ Jared lurched to his feet, walked stiffly to the end of the bed, bent over and spread his legs. His fingers fumbled against his plug as he pulled it out slowly. He dropped it onto the carpet and it fell with a thunk. Jared paused, trying to work up his nerve. _It's nothing. It doesn't mean anything. Just... do it for Megan._ Jared wiped slippery fingers against the blanket, before reaching behind himself and spreading his cheeks. He heard Jensen groan softly behind him. Jared forced the words out, his throat tight. “P-please fuck me, M-Master.” 

He heard Jensen's zipper, and then Jensen was slamming into him. “God, Jared. You have no idea...” Jensen's hands gripped tightly over Jared's. “No... idea how fucking hot you are. Watching... watching you take Mish and Jimmy, and then fucking your sloppy, wet...” Jensen lost his words as he came inside Jared.

Jared, for his part, thought he might vomit. He felt Jensen roughly shove his plug back inside him. Jared let go of his cheeks, bringing his hands up to grip handfuls of blanket. He heard Jensen move away, heard noise from the television.

“Get over here, Jared. Straddle my lap, facing me.” Jared stood shakily, and walked to Jensen. He crawled onto Jensen's lap, holding himself stiff and upright. Jensen pulled Jared against his chest, a hand splayed possessively across his back. Jared stared over the back of the couch, not really seeing. He shuddered as he felt the plug start to pulse, hard, and felt Jensen's fingers against its base, rocking it up into him.

It felt good, really fucking good, and Jared hardened against his cage with a whimper, unable to stop the small rolls of his hips. He tried to shut down his thoughts, and just feel.

“You want to come, don't you, Jared? You want this cage off, and you want to come.” Jensen's lips were near Jared's ear, his breath hot against his skin. Jensen slid the plug part way out, stretching Jared's rim around its widest point, before sliding it back in, pressing it hard against his prostate. Jared gasped as Jensen's other hand wrapped around his cage, searing hot against his swollen, trapped cock. 

Jared whimpered, wanting it desperately, filled with aching need. _It's... it's not going to happen. He's not going to let you come. Calm the fuck down._ It didn't matter that he knew better. Whispers slipped from his lips. “Please, please... need...”

Jared whined, actually whined as Jensen withdrew his hands, and the pulses from the plug stopped. He shivered, feeling bereft. He panted over Jensen's shoulder.

“Couple of problems with that, Jared.” Jensen's hand smoothed up and down Jared's back, as though trying to calm him. It didn't help. “Firstly, the only thing that you _need_ is to please me. Secondly, you were so, _so_ bad. And thirdly, it's only been two weeks. Two weeks, Jared, since I locked your disobedient little cock away.”

Jensen pushed Jared away, forcing him to sit upright. He ran a fingertip down the length of Jared's cage. “And one of the very first things you did, Jared, was decline the opportunity to have it off a week early. So no, no, you won't be coming tonight. Or for some time.” Jared's heart broke a little, and he whimpered again. Jensen's hand moved down to cup and roll Jared's balls, and Jared managed not to flinch. It was a close thing. “Feeling a little heavy down here, though, Jared. Are your balls starting to hurt yet?” 

They were, a little, but there wasn't any way Jared was going to share that.

Jensen's grip tightened on Jared's sac, forcing a pained gasp from him. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, yes, they... they hurt, M-Master.” Jared fought not to scramble away from Jensen's grip, or better yet, to slug him one across the mouth.

“Been a while since I milked you. Since that night in the bath. Would you like that, Jared? Want my fingers up your ass, milking you dry?”

 _Fuck no. I'll take the pain over that, any day._ “N-no, please.”

Jensen's hand lifted, and he slapped Jared viciously across the face. Jared rocked on Jensen's lap, a hand rising to cover his burning cheek. Jensen forced his arm back down.

“Here's a free tip. Saying no, when I offer you something? Not the best choice. Here's a new phrase for you. Might help you sort out your _priorities_. Try it on for size. 'Whatever Master wishes.' Because it really is all about what _I_ want, Jared. Say it. Do you want me to milk you?”

Jared felt a wave of nausea hit him. He choked the words out. “W-whatever Master wishes.” Jared felt something crack within him, shatter into dust.

“Better. Do you want the plug, or my fingers, Jared?”

 _Neither, for the love of God, neither._ “Whatever Master wishes.” His voice was hollow.

“Better! Get up.” Jared scrambled up from Jensen's lap as fast as he dared. Jensen went to the bathroom, returning with a towel. He sat back down in the middle of the couch, laying the towel across his lap. He patted his thigh. “Here, Jared. Lay down over my lap. Put your cage between my thighs.”

It was awkward, really awkward, as Jared tried to arrange his long limbs across Jensen's lap. He flushed crimson once he was situated – it was humiliating, being naked, ass-up over Jensen's fully-clothed lap. His cage pressed uncomfortably into the crease between Jensen's thighs.

Jensen's hand worked Jared's plug out, and he immediately slipped three fingers into Jared's hole. Jared flinched, and got a sharp smack across the ass for his troubles. Jared's embarrassment faded when Jensen found his prostate, rubbing across and pressing into the small gland.

Jared pressed his face into the couch, and caught his small moan behind his lips. The arousal cycled upwards within him, and even the pain from his trapped cock wasn't enough to stop it. Jensen was relentless with his stimulation, rubbing and pressing rhythmically, and it felt almost as good as the plug. Jared's hips pumped a little, desperately seeking friction for his cock, but Jensen smacked him hard again, and he stilled, tense across Jensen's lap.

Jared groaned a few moments later, fingers clenched into the soft fabric of the couch, as the pleasure-pain short-circuited his brain, leaving him floating and senseless. He felt Jensen's fingers still and withdraw.

“Fucking hell, Jared. How many pairs of my pants are you going to ruin?” Jared whimpered as he was shoved off of Jensen's lap, falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. He tried to organize himself, managing to get into a kneel as Jensen stalked off to the bedroom. His brain was still blissfully blank as he was smacked, hard, upside the head. Jensen, now wearing a T-shirt and pajama pants, threw himself back down onto the couch, with an annoyed look at Jared.

 _Why... why did he hit me?_ Jared was a little dazed.

“Because you soaked through the fucking towel.” Jensen flipped on the television, and browsed through Netflix for something to watch.

“S-sorry, Master.” Jared flushed and lowered his head. He felt a little more aware, and a little more capable of stopping thoughts before they came out of his mouth. His ass felt empty, in the absence of Jensen's fingers, and he wondered if Jensen had forgotten his plug. _Should... should I say something?_

 _A good whore would ask to have his ass filled._ Jared thought the snide voice in his head might actually have a point there. “M-Master, did... should I... put my p-plug back in?”

“Oh, right.” Jensen forced Jared to bend over the couch with a hand on the back of his neck, and worked the plug back into Jared's hole. He let Jared's neck go and sat back into the couch, eyes on the television. “You can watch, if you want.” Jensen said, carelessly.

Jared shuffled on the floor, turning to kneel facing the television. He glanced up at it – some sort of superhero movie. Jared closed his eyes and slumped a little. He was tired, as if he had shot all of his energy out of his limp cock. His head lowered as he drowsed.

Jared's head shot up at the soft knock on the door, and he happily followed Henrik back to his room. He glanced down, and saw his cage encrusted with his release. He blushed furiously. “Is... is there time for a shower before bed, Henrik, Sir?”

Henrik glanced down at the naked boy before looking back up. Technically, no, there wasn't. “Quickly.”

Jared scampered to the bathroom, and was showered, dried, redressed and in bed within ten minutes. He gave Henrik a grateful smile before dimming the lights and closing his eyes.

Henrik left wordlessly.

 

*

 

Henrik entered Jared's room the following morning as he was finishing breakfast. 

_Saturday, already?_ Jared wiped his lips with the heavy napkin, and followed Henrik down the halls. He entered Jensen's suite, hands on the hem of his shirt. The twins were there. There was also something large, draped with a sheet, in the middle of the room, in the open area behind the couch. Jared's sense of foreboding grew. He stripped and folded his clothes with shaking hands.

One of the twins rose from the couch and walked to Jared, a half-smile on his lips. Both hands came up to hold Jared's face, and he kissed Jared, hard. Jared, shocked, tried to pull away, only to bang his back against the door. The twin's tongue pressed at the seam of Jared's lips.

“Open for Mish, Jared.” Jensen called from his spot on the couch.

Jared parted his lips, and Misha plundered his mouth, one hand moving to Jared's hip, and the other grabbing Jared's cage. Jared trembled as Misha moved his mouth across his skin, trailing kisses down the side of Jared's neck. “Two weeks.” Jared heard Misha whisper, as he sunk his teeth into the skin of Jared's neck and sucked, worrying blood to the surface. “Two fucking weeks.” Misha stroked the skin of Jared's cock, through its metal cage. Jared whimpered as he started to harden.

“Let him breathe, Misha. Show him his new toy.” Jimmy commanded from beside Jensen.

Misha withdrew his hands, breathing heavily and still pressed against Jared. He gave Jared's neck one last, lingering kiss, and stepped backwards. He held out a hand. “Come see.” 

Jared took Misha's hand, shaking a little bit, completely unreassured by Misha's kind smile. Misha pulled the cloth away with a flourish, and it was... a bench. A narrow, well-padded wooden bench, dark wood and black leather, with ledges on either side for his arms and legs. It was covered in restraints – ankles, knees, wrists, elbows, waist, neck... Jared's breath caught in his chest, and he pulled away from Misha, backing up slowly.

He backed right into Jensen. Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared's middle as he shook. He pressed a kiss behind Jared's ear. “Do you like your present? It was made especially for you. It can even be adjusted, if you get any taller.” Jared felt Jensen smile, against his skin. “It's more practical than fucking you over the bed, really. You can stay bound to it for _hours._ And it lets two people use you at once. I'm guessing no one's ever spit-roasted you.”

Jared pulled in a shaky breath, panicking, trying to push Jensen's arms away from him. Jensen tightened his grip, and Jared reacted on pure instinct. He slammed an elbow back into Jensen's chest, catching his ribs, and heard a satisfying _whoosh_ of air from his mouth. Jensen's arms loosened, and Jared spun, cocking an arm back to label Jensen in the face.

“Holy shit!” Tight hands grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Jared thrashed against the grip, and suddenly Jimmy was in front of him, gripping Jared's jaw and wrenching Jared's head to face him. Both of Jared's arms were pinned behind his back.

“Jared. Stop. Right now.” Jimmy's voice was level, his blue eyes locked on Jared's hazel. “Stop.”

Jared stilled, his breathing ragged with fear. Misha's hands on his arms didn't loosen, nor did Jimmy's on his jaw. Jared looked over at Jensen, who was hunched over, panting a little, a hand pressed to his ribs, and looking shocked. None of the four boys said anything.

“Were... were you going to... punch me in the face, Jared?” Jensen stared up at Jared, looking... hurt. Betrayed.

“I'm sure he wouldn't have.” Jimmy's voice was deliberately calm. His eyes were piercing. He squeezed Jared's jaw painfully hard. “You'd never punch your master, would you, Jared?” 

Jared's eyes flickered back to Jimmy, and he saw the danger, the threat, and the warning there. “N-no.” Jared's brain kicked into gear, and he realized what a terrifyingly bad mistake he had made. A whine escaped his lips, and he would have collapsed, if it weren't for Misha and Jimmy holding him up.

Jensen straightened with a wince. Jimmy turned to him, releasing Jared's jaw.

“You okay, Jen?” Misha asked over Jared's shoulder.

“Yeah... yeah, I'm all right. Jared's sister, though? Not so much.” Jensen's mouth was twisted, and he glared at Jared.

Jared's heart stopped in his chest. His legs went out from under him, and it was all Misha could do to prevent him from dropping into the floor. He managed to ease Jared onto his knees.

“Hey, hey now. Jared was just scared, that was all. He panicked. It was an accident.” Jimmy walked to Jensen. He pulled Jensen's shirt up, inspecting the ribs that Jared had elbowed. He prodded them gently. “Look, they're not broken. You probably won't even bruise, he just knocked the wind out of you. You're fine.” Jimmy clapped a hand on Jensen's shoulder and smiled at him.

Jensen was still glaring at Jared. Jimmy grabbed his jaw, and turned his face to him. “Look. You've got what you need here, to punish him. You don't need your father's help, or to go after his sister. He's your responsibility. Handle this yourself, Jensen.”

Jared stared up at the two boys, terror rendering him unable to speak, unable to think. Misha wrapped his arms around Jared from behind, and whispered something into his ear, but he couldn't understand, couldn't focus.

Jensen stared at Jimmy for a long time, before finally nodding.

“Your room isn't wired for audio or video, is it, Jensen?” Jimmy moved his hand to Jensen's cheek.

“No way.” A muscle was working in Jensen's jaw.

“Good. Then what just happened can stay between the three of us, right? We can punish him, and no one else needs to know.” Jimmy's smile was sly, mischievous.

Jensen seemed to perk up, to lose a little of his fury and regain interest in what they could do.

“Now. Let's get your boy onto his new toy.” Jimmy's smile at Jensen was radiant.

 _Megan... Megan?_ Jared wasn't sure if he had just damned his sister to suffer at the hands of the Ackles or not. He felt Misha pulling him up, and staggered to his feet. “Get on the damned bench.” Misha's voice was a whisper in his ear. Jared let Misha arrange him on the bench, and was still and unresisting while Misha buckled him into the stiff leather restraints. He risked a glance – Jimmy and Jensen were deep in conversation, almost forehead to forehead. Misha cinched down the final restraint – the one pinning Jared's waist to the table – and gave him a pat on his rump. Jared's legs were spread, and his cage hung down off the edge of the table.

 _Not a whore, huh? Anyone can walk up to you, and use you at either end. They can beat you and rape you and there's not a damned thing you can do about it._ Jared closed his eyes and waited.

Suddenly, a fist slammed into his ribs. Jared's breath was forced out of him, and he choked. “You're lucky.” Jensen's voice was a hiss. Another vicious punch. “Lucky Jimmy was here, to talk me out of...” A third punch to the same spot on Jared's ribs, and he groaned. “... of raping your sister.” Another punch to the same spot, and Jared swore they were somehow getting harder. “By the time we're done with you...” Jared was punched so hard that the bench rocked, and he swore he heard something crack. “You're gonna wish we had taken her instead.”

Jared gasped shallowly, his ribs alight with pain that spiked with every breath. He was dazed, his eyes filled with tears. 

“Thank Jimmy, Jared.” Jensen was breathing hard through his nose.

“ThankyouJimmy.” Jared gasped out, in one breath.

“No problem.” Jimmy's voice was low and serious.

“Now. For what we're gonna do next, you're probably gonna scream. A lot. So I'm going to go ahead and gag you.” Fabric was shoved into Jared's mouth, and one of Jensen's ties was folded, shoved between his teeth, and tied behind his head. Jared panicked, looking around to see what might be coming. He saw Jimmy, holding the cane.

_This... this won't be that bad, right? I mean, it's Jimmy. He wouldn't..._

Jared jolted against the table, as a slash of searing pain was left across the sole of his right foot. The groan came a moment later.

“... be so careful with this. You can split skin, do permanent nerve damage, and even break bones...” Jared lost track of what Jimmy was saying, as more and more stripes of agony were laid across the bottom of his foot, all the way from the heel to the base of his toes. When Jimmy started to lay a second set of welts over the first, Jared started to scream. Jimmy didn't stop, and Jared continued to scream, pulling awful stabbing pains from his ribs. He was certain that the bottom of his foot was a bloody, mangled mess.

Jared had screamed himself hoarse before Jimmy finally stopped. He was vaguely aware of Misha kneeling in front of him, cradling his head and whispering, stroking his hair. 

“You're okay, you're okay. He's half way done. You're okay.” Misha murmured reassurances.

_Half... half way?_

The first line of pain seared itself across Jared's left sole, and he started to sob. The pain built and built, and Jared screamed himself into silence, tears pouring down his face, soaking his gag. Misha's hands were frantic against Jared's face and hair, and there were tears on his cheeks, as well. “Done, he's done, you're okay, you're okay, Jared.” Jared sobbed as his feet seared and throbbed, and Misha pressed kisses to his cheeks, his eyes, his lips, spread by the gag. Every heaving sob pulled more agony from his ribs.

Jared was vaguely aware of rough fingers at the back of his head, pulling at the knot in the tie. His gag came loose, and someone pulled the fabric from his mouth. Jared coughed, and began to pant heavily, still sobbing.

“How does that feel, Jared?” Jensen's voice was harsh and hot next to Jared's ear. “Does it feel like forgiveness? Like _redemption_?” Jared could feel Jensen's twisted smile, as he pressed his lips to Jared's sweaty temple.

All Jared could do was sob, limp against the bench, Misha's hands the only thing holding up his head.

“All right, Jen, now you can do his ass. Remember, not too high, or he'll be pissing blood.”

Jared whimpered, tensing, not at all ready for more pain. “Shh, shh...” Misha kissed Jared's forehead.

The stripes Jensen laid across Jared's ass hurt and burned, but it was nothing compared to the agony of what had been done to Jared's feet. Jared clamped his mouth shut, breathing hard through his nose, not hearing Misha's soft words.

“Good. Now, go over them again, a little harder, and even though you're only using a little more force, watch his reaction...”

Jared groaned, pain blooming across his ass, stripe after stripe, echoing the pulses of agony still radiating up his legs. “Please, please, pl...” Jared's frantic whispers were silenced by Misha's hand closing over his mouth.

“Shh, shh, not the time, Jared. Quiet.” Misha's voice was barely a whisper.

“Huh, you're right.” Jensen sounded interested, in an academic kind of way. “And how hard do I go, to make him shriek, like you did the other day?”

Misha's hand caught Jared's terrified whine.

“Twice as hard, something around that. But if you hit him like that, he's gonna bleed a little, and you'll have to take your pants off before your fuck him.”

“S'worth it.” Liquid pain, overwhelming, spiralling upwards with the pain from his feet, his ribs... so, so much worse than when Jimmy had done it, and Jared shrieked, feeling his grip on consciousness slip. His vision grayed out.

“Whoah, whoah! Shit, Jen! Too hard! Fucking fuck!” Jared felt hot liquid slide down the backs of his thighs, before someone pressed cool fabric against his ass.

“That's a lot of blood, Jimmy, what...” Misha's voice was frightened.

“Get Henrik, get Jared to your medic.” There was a pause, and silence. “Jensen! Now!!” Jimmy snapped at Jensen. Misha's fingers worked quickly, unbuckling Jared's many restraints.

“Uh, Henrik? Jared... Jared needs the doctor, like, now...” Jared felt Jimmy's hands unbuckling the cuffs on the opposite side.

The door burst open a few moments later. The three shocked boys stood around the fourth, still laid out on the bench, blood seeping through the white fabric pressed against his welted ass, trails of it down the backs of his thighs.

Henrik said not one word, scooping up Jared and rushing him from the room.

Jared was faintly aware of being carried, and being jostled. _Henrik... Henrik's usually a little more gentle..._ He frowned, and then the bright lights of the doctor's office were in his eyes. Henrik maneuvered him face down onto the exam table. He felt the fabric peeled stickily off his skin, and Henrik muttered something in a language Jared didn't know.

“Jesus. Jared, Jared, hon, can you hear me? We're going to give you a shot, and get this fixed up, all right? You're going to sleep, to keep you still while I'm working. Okay?” The doctor's voice was tight. Jared tried to speak, to answer, but his throat was raw from screaming, and he couldn't make his voice work. He nodded weakly.

The darkness was a blessing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shifting tags, folks.
> 
> Trigger warnings for self-harm, suicidal ideation, and suicide attempt.

“ _Forty five stitches_ , Jensen, to close those lacerations. He's going to scar, from that. I'm going to go ahead and assume that was you, and not Jimmy, that did that.”

Jensen nodded, hunched over in his chair, staring at the carpet between his feet. “I... I didn't mean for that to happen. I didn't mean to hit him that hard. I'm sorry, Dad.”

The older man stared hard at his son's bowed head. He could tell the kid was sincere. 

“And do you want to explain the welts on his feet? And the fractured ribs?”

“Jimmy... Jimmy did his feet, and they were punishment for something that he did.”

“Jensen! We have systems in place, for when Jared shows an error in judgment.”

“I wanted to handle it by myself. He's mine, my responsibility, and I wanted to correct him myself. Everything was going fine, until I accidentally... yeah.” Jensen finished lamely, scuffing his toes on the carpet.

Jensen's father was silent for a while. “I can appreciate that you want to handle him yourself, but you have to temper your punishments with restraint. It's fine to hurt him, but you've ensured that he'll take _weeks_ to heal. He won't be able to walk for at least four days.”

“I wanted him to have to crawl.” Jensen shrugged.

“If you want him to crawl, you _tell him to crawl_ , Jensen. You don't beat the soles of his feet until he physically has to. And regardless, he won't be crawling for you any time in the near future. You can see him again when the stitches come out.”

“How... how long...”

“The doctor is estimating two weeks.”

Jensen groaned.

 

*

 

Jared woke, confused, blinking at the bright lights. _Why am I always on my stomach?_

The doctor's face came into focus, smiling at him. He smiled back. He felt good, actually, really good, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was with the doctor.

“Hey, Jared. Are you feeling okay?”

Jared tried to speak, but his throat was aching and didn't seem to want to work. “Y-yeah.” Jared managed to force out. He thought he sounded a little like a frog.

“Just so you know, you've got a catheter in, so if you feel the need to pee, you just let it go, hon. I put it in so you could stay off your feet for the first little while, until the swelling comes down a little. You can't walk right now, so don't you _dare_ try. You've got a ton of stitches in your butt – move slowly and carefully until I take them out. Probably a couple of weeks - with any luck, you won't scar too badly. And your ribs are cracked, but not broken. We've got them taped up, to make you a little more comfortable, and have you pretty doped up on pain meds. We'll probably keep you that way for at least a few days. You'll sleep, most of the time.”

Jared blinked, his mind foggy and hazy, stunned at the damage to his body that the doctor had so factually recounted. He couldn't even really remember what had happened. All he remembered was pain, world-ending pain, and then blackness. Jared noticed suddenly that his cage was gone, as was his plug. He breathed a soft sigh of relief.

Jared meant to ask how long it would be before he saw Jensen again, but forcing that many words out of his battered throat seemed like an awful lot of work. He sipped at a cool, sweet drink that the doctor gave him, before he decided that being asleep was an infinitely better idea.

 

*

 

Jared's two weeks away gave him ample time to heal, and once he was able to walk again, he managed to get around pretty well. The medicines helped a lot, though the ice he had to apply to his feet made his entire body feel cold, which he hated. The doctor laughed at him while he sulked, suggesting a bird would come and perch on his pouty bottom lip. Jared pouted even harder when she said it.

He asked Henrik to take him outside again, and Henrik did. There was more fresh air, sunshine, and fresh snow. Jared, not really thinking too much (his brain had been mostly offline with the pain meds), formed a snowball with wet, freezing fingers, and flung it at Henrik – it nailed him right in the side of the head. There was an extremely tense moment, where Henrik was shocked and Jared was terrified, before Henrik chuckled and brushed the snow off of himself. Jared grinned, trying to lure Henrik into a snowball fight, but Henrik demurred. Jared threw a few more, but Henrik was remarkably agile for such a large man, and his throws missed.

On the fourteenth day, Henrik entered Jared's room and told him his presence had been requested at dinner. Something about the way Henrik looked at him told him that this time, opting out wasn't an option. He followed Henrik wordlessly to the dining room, where Jensen and his father were already seated. He knelt beside Jensen's chair, and lowered his head.

“You're looking well, Jared. I trust you've healed?” Jensen's father was conversational.

“Y-yes, Master. The... the stitches came out this morning.”

“Would you mind terribly if I took a look, please?” Jensen's father rose from his chair, and moved to Jared, helping him to his feet. Jared lowered his pants far enough that the healed slashes showed, there were two fine red scars across both cheeks. Jared glanced at Jensen – he hadn't even looked to see how Jared had healed.

“Our doctor is really very good, over time, these will barely be visible. Thank you.” Jensen's father returned to his chair, and Jared pulled his pants back up and returned to his knees.

“What did you do, Jared, that my son felt that you deserved such severe punishment?” The older man looked at the top of Jared's head over the rim of his glass.

Both boys tensed.

“It's been handled, Dad. Jared made a mistake, and paid the price for it.” 

“That wasn't what I asked. I asked what he did.”

Jared trembled. Jensen didn't answer.

“Jared? Tell me what you did, to be punished so cruelly.”

“He made a mistake, Dad, and I made a mistake, and everyone's fine and it's over now.”

“Jared?” Jared heard the ice and steel in the older man's tone.

“I... I panicked. I was afraid, and I...” Jared stared fixedly at the floor.

“Yes?”

“I... I elbowed M-Master in the ribs. I almost...” Jared choked off his words.

“Did you.” Jensen's father sipped his wine, an eyebrow raised. “And what did you _almost_ do, Jared?”

“N-nothing, Master.”

“Lie to me, Jared, and I'll make the call to have your parents killed.”

Jared whined in panic, and Jensen talked over him. “Dad, it's done.”

“Quiet, Jensen. Jared, this is going to be the last time I'll ask. What did you _almost_ do?”

“P-punched Master in the face...” Jared squeaked out.

Jensen's father put his glass down on the table.

“He didn't, though, Dad. He didn't. He wouldn't.”

“Miriam?” Jensen's father called for one of the maids.

She emerged from the kitchen. “Sir?”

“Bring me a plastic one-litre bottle of water, please, with the lid still on it.”

“Dad!” Jensen's voice sounded a little panicked. Jared's heart pounded in his chest.

“Of course, Sir.” She ducked back out, emerging a moment later with the bottle of water.

“Give it to Jared, please.”

Jared accepted the bottle with shaking hands, frightened out of his wits, but not understanding what was happening. He placed it on the floor between his knees, and glanced up at Jensen, who was shaking, a fist clenched on the table.

“Finish Jensen's water, Jared.”

“Dad, he's _mine_. It's up to _me_ how he's punished, and I'm saying this is done!”

Jared took Jensen's water, his hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped the glass. He finished it, and slipped it back up onto the table.

“M-Master?” Jared whispered up to Jensen.

Jensen's father leaned forward, against the table. He rubbed his forehead. “Jared, raising a hand to your Master is singularly the worst possible thing a slave can do. For elbowing my son, you're going to be spending a substantial amount of time on punishment. Which is why you'll be needing the water. I'd suggest you ration it. Carefully. And for _almost_ punching my son in the face, your family, that being your parents and your sister, will be dying. I'll be sure to make it quick and painless for them.”

Jared blinked, and his mouth opened, frozen in shock. _W-what?_

“Dad!!” Jensen yelled, standing up angrily, knocking his chair over backwards.

“While you live under my roof, Jensen, you follow my rules. When you're an adult, you can make the decisions concerning your slave. Until then, it's my responsibility. And this is my decision. You _will_ abide by it.”

Jensen threw his father a furious, disgusted look. He stormed out of the living room, and Jared watched him go, still frozen by shock.

“Henrik? Take Jared downstairs, please.” Jared's eyes turned back to Jensen's father, who had picked up his wineglass and was drinking deeply. As though he hadn't just ordered the deaths of the people that Jared loved most.

“Of course, Sir.” Henrik handed Jared his water, and hauled him up by his arm. Jared continued to stare at his master, wishing he could say something, anything at all, to make this not be happening. He stared until Henrik dragged him around the corner and out of sight.

“H-Henrik... I... I was already p-punished...” Jared whimpered, stumbling along as Henrik pulled him. Jared had remembered everything, when the drugs were clear of his system. Henrik said nothing. “M-Master... he... he wasn't serious, was he, Henrik? He... he wouldn't...” Jared tripped over his feet, staring up at Henrik.

“Quiet, Jared.”

Jared shut his mouth, staring back down at the floor, his eyes filling with tears. They arrived far too soon at the punishment cell. Jared clutched his water bottle, trembling as Henrik stripped off his clothes. Henrik opened the door, and gave Jared a gentle nudge into the darkness.

“P-please...” Jared turned back towards Henrik, the door, and the light. His tears spilled down his cheeks.

Henrik said nothing, and closed the door.

 

*

 

Jared's time in the cell was much as it had been the other times. Only now, he had the sickening reality of being the cause of the deaths of his family to cope with. He begged and pleaded into the darkness for their lives to be spared, he offered to die in their stead. He sobbed and screamed and cried far more than he knew was wise. He slept intermittently and poorly, and the smell worsened.

Jared was thirsty _all the time_ , and knowing that the water was _right there_ was a constant torment. But he knew, or rather, he thought he knew, what it was going to feel like when it got really bad, and he tried his best to hold out. He took his first cautious sips of water when his mouth was dry and sticky, and his tongue swollen. The water was a blessing, and he remembered the kind doctor's words to drink slowly, and only a little, lest he vomit it up.

He did vomit, though, after he was forced to use his washroom corner for something other than relieving his bladder. He curled up in his corner, sobbing, his face pressed against the concrete, trying desperately to escape the smell and the filth of his cell.

He only ever drank enough so that the worst of the stickiness his mouth would be relieved, and it was never, ever enough to quench his thirst. He got progressively more frightened as the bottle got progressively lighter, despite his best attempts to conserve it. 

The morning Jared woke, sick, dehydrated and starving, emptying the last few drops of his water into his mouth, was the first time he thought that dying might actually be better than living like this.

As he phased into his empty, grey space, he wondered idly if there was any way of accomplishing his death in his wretched cell. The empty bottle clattered to the floor from Jared's limp fingers.

From so many hours, so many days in his cell, he knew that there was a rough seam on the floor, near his corner. Jared ran the inside of his wrist across it, wondering, if he rubbed hard and long enough, if it would be enough to tear the skin, and maybe the veins. Without even really thinking about it, he ran his wrist across the rough concrete, over and over, while his brain pondered other methods of his own destruction.

 _I... I could throw up, everything in my stomach, that'd speed the death by dehydration..._ But Jared reckoned that'd still take too long. He didn't _think_ that they wanted him to die in here, otherwise, they'd just have Henrik put a bullet in his head. Unless they wanted him to suffer miserably first, before they did it.

The rub of his wrist against the seam was feeling slick, and he lost some of the scrapey-concrete feeling, so he pressed harder to compensate.

 _Maybe... maybe a blow to my temple..._ Jared turned a little, the work on his wrist forgotten. He twisted so that the side of his head was parallel to the wall, and his shoulder was clear, before slamming his temple as hard as he could against it.

The pain was astonishing, and _real_ , and it wasn't blackness and nausea and starvation and stench and thirst and horror. Jared liked it a lot, and he did it over and over again, until he felt wetness trickle down his cheek. He wiped at it absentmindedly, feeling wet stickiness at his wrist, as well. He continued to slam his head against the wall, hoping to trigger an aneurysm, or something. Anything.

Jared didn't hear the door open, and didn't see the light from the hallway. The first thing he was aware of was gentle hands cradling his head, preventing him from slamming it into the wall. He pulled against them, trying to find that hot pain again, so unlike anything else in his cell. He pushed weakly at them, trying to make them let him go.

They were insistent, pulling him away from the wall and scooping him into someone's strong arms. _Henrik. Only Henrik's that strong, though, right now, lifting me is like lifting a dead rat that's been dessicating in an attic all summer._

Jared giggled as he pictured his lifeless corpse, dry and hollow, skin pulled tight across his bones, in the middle of some cluttered, overheated attic. He felt a little jostled, as if Henrik had sped up.

Jared groaned, annoyed and irritated as they arrived at the doctor. Jared was _sick_ of being at the doctor's, of the bright lights and crinkly paper and syrupy drinks, no matter how nice she was to him.

As Henrik set him on the table, Jared pushed and struggled. _Screw this, I'm out._ He managed to squirm off the table, and his legs collapsed. Henrik caught him and hoisted him back onto the table. He heard the soft murmur of the doctor's voice, but it didn't seem to be words.

There was a sharp tap on his cheek, and he frowned. Jared tried to raise his arms, but Henrik had both of his wrists in a firm grip. A bolt of utter frustration spiked through Jared, and he ripped himself backwards from Henrik, slamming the back of his head against the wall behind the narrow table. He thought he heard something crack.

 _”Jared!!”_ Henrik's voice cut through the fog in Jared's brain. Jared felt Henrik's hands tighten on his wrists.

Jared tried to speak, and it came out as a cough. “Le... leave me alone.” He continued to struggle weakly against Henrik's grip. He felt the pinch of a needle in his shoulder.

“Ow.” Jared looked down at the needle in the doctor's hand, feeling a little betrayed that she had hurt him.

A few moments later, his eyes fluttered shut, and Henrik eased him back onto the narrow table.

“Jesus Christ.” The doctor stared blankly at the unconscious boy on the table, the left side of his face swelling and coated in blood. Henrik stared at him, too.

“Will he be all right?” Henrik's voice was quiet.

“I... I don't know. I really don't know.” She turned to her supplies, preparing an IV, to start the long process of trying to bring Jared back.

 

*

 

Jared woke strapped to the table in the doctor's office. He couldn't move his upper body, his arms, or his legs, and he whimpered in fear. He looked around, seeing the doctor across the room, writing something on a clipboard. Something... something was wrong with his eye...

“It's all right. You're okay, Jared. You were trying to hurt yourself, and you ripped the IV out, so we had to restrain you.” The doctor walked to him, and put a soft, reassuring hand against Jared's shoulder.

Jared blinked up at her, and realized his left eye was swollen nearly shut. “Are...” Jared coughed, his throat dry. “Are you... going to kill me now?”

The doctor's heart broke at the _hope_ mingled with fear in the boy's voice. She tried to calm herself before speaking.

“No, Jared, hon. No. You're going to be just fine. I'm... I'm going to get you fixed up, good as new, just like I always do.”

“Could...” Jared swallowed hard, thinking of his dead family. Tears pricked, burning, in his eyes. “C-could you, please? K-kill me?”

The doctor covered her mouth, her own eyes filling with tears as well. She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment. “N-no, sweetie. You... you don't really want that.”

Jared was thoughtful. “I... I think I do. Yeah. If... if all my life is is pain and... and rape and starvation and un-unending thirst, why... why bother? My...” Jared swallowed hard. “My family... M-Master had them killed. If... if I die, too, I can be with them again.”

The doctor leaned in, pressing her lips against Jared's temple. Her voice was barely a breath, too soft for the microphones and cameras. She pressed a hand to his hair. “Don't react. Your family isn't dead. They've been moved to safety.” She stood back up, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“You don't mean that, not really, Jared, hon. You're young, and you've got... a lifetime ahead of you.”

Jared was frozen against the table. _Not... not dead? They're safe?_ He stared blankly at the ceiling with his one good eye.

“If I undo the straps, are you going to hurt yourself, or pull at the IV?” The doctor's hands hovered over the strap across Jared's chest.

“N-no, Ma'am.” Jared laid utterly still, turning over the idea of his family still being alive in his mind, bright and beautiful. His mother's hugs, his father's laugh, his annoying little sister. He sat up when the doctor helped him to.

Jared's hand came up to his eye, and he felt a _lot_ of swelling there. “What... what happened to my eye?”

“You fractured the zygomatic bone, when you were slamming your head against the wall.”

Jared gaped at her. “I... what?!” His confusion was absolute. His hand slid up his cheek to the side of his head, finding stubble where the hair had been shaved, and feeling stitches and swelling near his temple.

“You were in another dissociative state. For whatever reason, you decided that racking your head off the wall, over and over, was a good idea. As was attempting to slice open your own wrist, on a bit of rough concrete.” Jared lowered his arm, and saw the white bandages across the inside of his wrist. “You may have been attempting to kill yourself. Henrik stopped you.”

Jared was stunned. The doctor smiled at him. “And you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, or with this office, when Henrik brought you here. You tried to leave, even though you were too weak to walk. Are you not fond of my company, Jared?”

Jared spluttered, trying to tell her that wasn't the case, when he saw the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Jared gave her a tiny smile and ducked his head.

“I know, hon. It's not _me_ that you don't want to see. It's that you don't want to be hurt enough to need to. Now, drink some of my 'foul liquids', as you referred to them as.”

Jared blushed, taking the small bottle and sipping the sweet liquid. It was very soothing on his parched throat. “I... I didn't mean...” He took another sip. “They're not _that_ bad.”

The doctor chuckled. “They actually are, but they're not really optional, unfortunately.”

This time, Jared got to return to his room the very same day, with the doctor's stern warnings about self-harm ringing in his ears. He promised her he wouldn't. He still wasn't entirely sure how he even _had_.

He spent a quiet couple of days, the swelling in his face going down a little, and drinking as much water as he could force into his stomach. He felt like he was using the washroom every thirty seconds, but never in his life had Jared been more grateful for unlimited access to drinking water. He was sure he'd never take it for granted again.

He showered, over and over again, too. He couldn't get the feeling of filth off his skin, no matter how hard he tried. He emerged after one of his scalding showers, skin bright red and scrubbed nearly raw, and almost had a heart attack when he saw Henrik standing in the doorway. Henrik had some quiet words for him, about the excessive heat and scrubbing. Jared listened, dripping water on the floor, eyes wide and frightened, and promised to stop.

Jared had avoided looking in the mirror since he came out of the cell. It never had anything good to say. His face was swollen and his eye blackened, and he had that awful patch shaved into the side of his head, the split skin and the stitches. He looked thin and sickly, even to his own eyes. He dreaded to think what his mother would say about how he looked.

 _Mom._ Jared's heart gave a leap, as it did every time he thought about his family being safe. He deliberately schooled his features into blankness. He had decided to trust the doctor, rather than tear himself apart fretting about whether or not it was the truth. He hoped they were happy, and safe, his family. He wondered vaguely how far they had had to run, to escape the Ackles' sphere of influence.

Jared was marching his armies of tiny soldiers across the computer screen when his door opened. He glanced up, and it was _Jensen_. Jared froze, cross-legged on his bed.

Jensen glanced around Jared's small room with mild interest. He walked to the bathroom door, peeked his head in, and turned back to Jared. “You look awful.” He had a small box in his hand, wrapped in shiny silver paper.

Jared flushed crimson and lowered his eyes to his blanket.

“Why did you do it?”

“I... I don't know. The... the doctor thought I might have been... trying to kill myself. I... I don't remember doing it. M-Master.”

Jensen blinked. “Why would you kill yourself?” He sounded blankly uncomprehending.

“M-Master k-killed my family. I... it was s-so dark, and I was so th-thirsty. I... I wanted... to be with my family.” Jared finished on a whimper.

“You belong _here_ , with me, Jared. Not in an unmarked grave.” Jensen looked annoyed.

“Y-yes, Master.” Jared kept his eyes fixed on his blanket.

“Anyway, it's Christmas. Merry Christmas.” Jensen thrust the box at Jared, who took it with trembling fingers.

“T-thank you, Master. M-merry Christmas.” Jared stared down at the shiny box, not making any move to open it. 

“Open it.” Jensen snapped.

Jared opened it, picking at the tape and unfolding the paper carefully. He took the lid off, and inside were... socks. Soft, warm, fuzzy socks, four pairs, in bright colours. Jared swallowed hard, and lifted the yellow ones out of the box. Yellow had always been his favourite colour. He pulled them on, marvelling at how strange and amazing they felt. He wiggled his toes experimentally, feeling the softness brush against his skin.

“Thank you.” Jared whispered, and he meant it. 

“You're welcome. You're only allowed to wear them in your room.”

Jared nodded, and pulled the right one off. He replaced it with one of the red ones, and pressed the bottoms of his feet together, enjoying the contrast in the colours, so different from his monochrome clothing and room. He thought briefly of Dobby, from Harry Potter, and his mismatched socks. He had a sudden urge to read the series of books again.

“You're weird. Anyway, I guess I'll see you in a couple of days.” Jensen turned and left. Jared saw Henrik's broad shoulder as Jensen brushed past him. Jared moved to his bookshelf, and noticed his new socks were a little slippery on the hardwood. He ripped a page out of one of his notebooks, and wrote a polite request for the Harry Potter books for Henrik. He slipped it under the door when he was finished, and slide-skated back to his bed.

 

*

 

The next day, Henrik came in as Jared was finishing breakfast. He had two boxes in his hands, which he deposited carefully on Jared's bed. Jared blinked, dropping his piece of toast.

 _That... that's the Wizard's Collection._ Jared had drooled over it online – the ultimate collection of Harry Potter movies, 31 discs, in a cool box with secret compartments and hidden treasures. And beside it, a collection of all of the books, hardcover, neatly packed in a box made to look like a Hogwarts chest. _Those... that movie collection alone was almost a thousand dollars. Jesus Christ._

“I assumed,” Henrik started in his deep, calm voice, “that if you enjoyed the books, you might also enjoy the movies. The discs should play in your laptop.”

Jared stared up at Henrik, stunned. “This...” He touched the box with a fingertip. “This was _limited edition_ , and it hasn't been available for _years._ How...”

Henrik smiled his enigmatic smile. “I hoped you might enjoy it, and so, I acquired it.”

“God! I mean, yes, thank you! Thank you so much! This is amazing!” Jared stared back down at the box, wide-eyed. He heard Henrik chuckle as he turned and left the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - suicide attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bumpy ride. If you're still with me, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Any thoughts are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I love you guys. <3

When the summons to Jensen's room came a few days later, Jared was watching a Harry Potter movie, wearing mismatched fuzzy socks (one blue and one yellow), and wearing the Horcrux locket from his set of movies.

Fear spiking through him, he pulled off the socks and tucked the locket back into its secret compartment, before following Henrik to Jensen's suite. The twins were there, and Misha approached him, as he stripped silently beside the door.

“Jesus, Jared.” Misha breathed out, a gentle hand trailing along Jared's bruised cheek, and under his blackened eye. The hand came up, ruffling Jared's hair. “The doc ruined your beautiful hair.” Misha stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to the stitches on Jared's temple.

Jared said nothing, and did nothing, stiff and frightened, his back against the door. The... bench... was still there, in the open area behind the couch. Misha slipped an arm around Jared's waist, and guided him to where the other boys were sitting on the couch. He sunk to his knees, pulling Jared down with him.

“You...” Misha scrunched up his face a little. “You wouldn't _really_ leave us, would you, Jared?” He stared at Jared, eyes wide and sad and brilliantly blue.

 _Jensen told them._ Jared didn't even look at the two boys watching from the couch. 

Misha reached a tentative hand, taking Jared's in his own. “I... I know you have to be here, that you don't get a choice, but... we... we're friends, aren't we?”

Jared nodded, dropping his gaze. It somehow hurt Jared, to see the pain in Misha's eyes. He tried to explain. “I... I don't remember doing it. I didn't... do it on purpose.” Jared glanced up, and saw a watery smile on Misha's face. _Not gonna be telling him about begging the doctor to kill me._

“I'm glad.” Misha lunged forward and enveloped Jared in a hug. Jared knelt stiffly in Misha's arms.

“Help Jared with his cage and plug, would you, Mish?” Jensen sounded indifferent. The TV flickered to life, and a movie began to play.

“Of course.” Jared froze at Jensen's words, and allowed Misha to pull him to his feet, walk him to the bedroom, and push him backwards onto the bed. He stared blankly at the ceiling as he felt Misha's nimble fingers assembling his cage. He didn't know why he thought anything might be different. He gasped as Misha slid the sound in.

Misha nudged him gently to flip onto his stomach, and Jared did, spreading his legs. He pressed his face into the blankets as Misha gently and slowly worked him open, so very, very different from Jensen's careless, hurried prep. It didn't even hurt as Misha slid the plug in, just a slight stretch. It wasn't even that cold – Misha had warmed it a little, somehow.

“All done, Bossman.” Misha walked into the washroom, washing his hands.

“Come kneel, Jared.” Jared pushed himself upright, groaning at the sensation of the plug shifting within him. He couldn't imagine that he had ever gotten used to this. He walked to Jensen, settling on his knees between Jensen's spread legs. Jensen's hand moved to the side of Jared's head, running lightly over stitches and shaved stubble. It was a strange sensation. 

Jensen paused the movie. Misha curled up on the couch beside Jimmy. Jimmy sighed and spoke. “You should know, Jared, that we didn't want that to happen.” Jared stiffened, eyes unseeing on the floor. “We didn't know that Mr. Ackles was going to find out. If we did, we wouldn't have done what we did, okay? But we were trying to _protect_ you. And your family. And we're sorry for what happened.”

Jared said nothing, and kept his head down.

Jimmy continued. “Jensen was fucking _pissed_ when his dad overruled him, and chucked you on punishment for five days.” _Five days, it had been, then, of thirst and gnawing hunger and blackness and..._ Jared shivered. They didn't know. None of these spoiled, selfish _brats_ could have even the faintest idea of how horrifying it was down there.

“You had to be punished, for what you did, but it wasn't fair that you got punished twice.”

Jared laughed softly, unable to stop the sound before it came out. _What part, of anything that had happened since he'd been snatched off the sidewalk, had ever been fair?_

“Something funny, Jared?” Jensen's voice was cool.

It took every single ounce of Jared's willpower not to go off on Jensen and Jimmy. “No, Master.” Jared's voice was choked with suppressed anger. He silently fumed at Jensen. _Have you ever not eaten for five days? Can you even conceive of what that's like? Have you ever even_ been _hungry?? Have you ever been subjected to hour after endless hour of pitch blackness? Have your lips ever cracked and bled from lack of water, leaving copper and bile the only thing you could taste? Have you ever slept naked and cold on a concrete floor, Master?_ Jared poured all the loathing that he could into the last word, in his head.

Jared felt Jensen's hand shift to stroke down the back of his neck. He knew he must be radiating anger and tension, and tried to reel in his rage. “I think a little time over the bench might help you find your focus, Jared. Go.”

Jared stood, amazed that the fury radiating from him hadn't incinerated the room and everyone and everything in it. Misha stood, as well, and took Jared's hand, leading him around the couch to the bench. Jared climbed onto it, tension in every muscle of his body. Misha's hands stroked Jared's skin as he fastened the buckles.

When Misha's head was close beside Jared's, he heard Misha whisper. “Please, please calm down, Jared. Nothing... nothing good can come from your anger. Please, please don't make him punish you again.” Misha's lips brushed Jared's cheek.

Misha's words struck Jared, hard. _He's right._ Jared trembled in his bonds, rage supplanted by terror. _I'll die if I have to go back there. I'll die. I'll fucking snap again, and I'll kill myself._ The fear crawled up his throat, and Jared felt like he was strangling on it.

“Jared!” Misha's whisper was frantic. Jared felt Misha's hands on his cheeks, lifting Jared's face to his own. Misha's eyes were wide, and he was almost nose to nose with Jared, who had started to hyperventilate, his vision greying out at the edges. “Jared, breathe. Breathe with me, okay?” Jared watched Misha breathe deliberately, slowly and deeply, his chest rising and falling with it. He tried to mimic Misha, slowing his shaking breaths, and managed to get a little more air into his chest. The greyness faded. Jared blinked, and Misha smiled, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

“A panic attack isn't really a whole lot better than being angry. Mind you, you can't hit Jensen if you're out cold, I suppose.” Misha smiled, and then his face fell. “Promise me, Jared, _promise me_ that you won't ever hit Jensen again. They'll kill you, if you do.” Misha's face was serious.

 _Good to know I've got an out, if I need it,_ Jared thought, wryly. He nodded, his eyes on Misha.

“ _Promise me_.” Misha frowned.

“O-okay, I... I promise.” Jared whispered. Misha smiled and kissed him, stood, and moved to fasten the rest of Jared's restraints.

Jared stared down at the carpet, feeling strap after strap cinch against his limbs, his waist, and his neck. He was a little shocked to find that there was a certain... peace, a calmness, in being strapped down and unable to move. _Short of biting off someone's dick, how much trouble can I honestly get into on this thing? It's not like I can hit anyone. I could, maybe, flick them, if they got really close to my hand..._ Jared felt a gentle caress on his ass, before Misha moved away, and curled back up with Jimmy on the couch.

Jared felt as though the boys ignored him for hours. The movie ended, they had lunch, and played video games.

“Oh, Jared, I forgot to show you.” Jensen grabbed something from the coffee table, and walked towards where Jared was bound. He crouched before Jared's head, and held up a copy of the local newspaper. The headline read, “Three Dead in House Fire.”

Jared's heart stopped, as he saw his address. His parents' names. His sister's name. A painful sob tore its way out of his throat - it felt like it took a piece of his soul with it. Jensen's eyes were wide and green, above the top of the newspaper. He lowered it. “Don't worry. They were already dead before the fire was started. Lethal injection. They didn't suffer. You know how good Henrik is with needles.”

Jared vomited acid and bile, all over the floor in front of Jensen, who jumped backwards, looking disgusted. He called for a maid, to clean up the mess, as he walked back to the couch.

Jared's mind whirled. _She... she lied? The doctor lied? And... Henrik? Henrik... killed my family??_ Jared dry-heaved, over and over again, convulsing against the bench, the strap against his neck cutting in, above his collar. Jared gasped and choked. The strap was loosened, and his breathing eased. It was only afterwards that he became aware of the gentle hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. Jared's eyes were blurred with tears, as his heaving subsided into sobs that wracked his body. He could barely see the maid, cleaning his vomit from the floor. Misha whispered softly into his ear, but Jared couldn't make out what he was saying.

“Your house, by the way, burned to the foundation. Everything was destroyed.” Jensen announced, looking back over the couch at Jared's bound form, before turning back to his video game.

Jared couldn't even register the destruction of the house, and all of his belongings, everything he had ever owned as a loss, in the face of the betrayal of people he thought cared about him, if only just a little. Henrik... Henrik had been so kind to him. Jared felt a pronounced disconnect – he couldn't reconcile his experiences with Henrik with the image of him creeping through Jared's house, slipping needles into the people Jared cared about most.

Everything – everyone was gone. Jared's sobs, which had tapered off a little, returned in force.

Jensen stood suddenly from the couch. “I have to know how Jared's ass feels, when he's crying like that. I bet he clenches on my cock, every time he sobs.”

Jimmy looked unimpressed. Misha looked faintly disgusted. It was Misha who spoke up. “Give... give Jared a break, Jensen. Please.”

“Shut up, Misha. Go sit with Jimmy.” Misha retreated wordlessly to the couch, as Jensen walked up behind Jared's shaking form.

Jared didn't hear the conversation, too wrapped up in his own misery, but he did feel the plug pulled sharply from him. _No! No, please, no!_ He strained hard enough, trying to get away, that he heard the leather and wood of the bench creak. His sobs increased in speed and pitch as his fear rose.

Jensen slid into him with one long thrust, a grunt and a sigh, while Jared sobbed underneath him. Jensen's hands gripped Jared's hips bruisingly tight, resting with his entire length sheathed in Jared. Jensen groaned, pressing himself as hard as he could against Jared's ass.

“Jesus Christ, that feels good. He's tight like a fucking vise, and pulsing against me. Jesus.”

Jared felt a hand leave his hip, and the barest touch of a finger along the new scars across his ass.

Jensen leaned down, over Jared's heaving back, hissing into his ear. “ _I_ did that. _I_ put those marks on you, and you'll carry them for the rest of your life.”

Jared tried so, so hard, to block out Jensen's hateful words, but they seemed to bore their way into Jared's head, like some sort of unstoppable drill. Jared grit his teeth and sobbed, his head aching, eyes burning, and heart shattered. 

Jensen thrust shallowly, but hard, into Jared. “ _I_ took away your home. Your family. Your future. Everything you know and love. It's all gone because I _chose_ you, Jared. And now, all you have is _this_.” Jensen snapped his hips forward, hard. “Being hot, wet holes for me to fuck.”

 _No... no..._ Jared tried frantically to deny Jensen's statements, but... they were all true. Jensen leaned back up, the better to fuck Jared with long, pounding thrusts.

When he spoke next, Jensen was a little out of breath. “Maybe... maybe I should tattoo you. Right here.” Jensen placed a hand over Jared's lower back, just above his ass. “My initials, maybe. Or the family crest. So that anyone who takes your ass when you're bent over like a bitch knows who you belong to.” Jensen's thrusts got a little erratic. “Or maybe a... brand.” Jensen panted. “So it matches the scars across your ass.”

Jared found the slip into his grey space remarkably easy and incredibly welcome, as though it were a good friend who had been waiting for him, just out of sight. His sobs died out, and he laid still and compliant under Jensen's final few thrusts, staring blankly at the floor, feeling the rush of heat as Jensen spilled inside of him. Jensen pulled out and shoved Jared's plug back in. Jensen sat beside the twins, on the couch. Misha was staring back at Jared, his brows drawn together, worried. Jimmy and Jensen argued about which game to play next.

Jared found himself wondering which one he'd prefer to carry – Jensen's tattoo or Jensen's brand. He'd heard that tattoos hurt, but it had to hurt more to have your skin seared, didn't it? Jared didn't know a whole lot about branding. Okay, he knew nothing about branding. And it wasn't like he could just Google it. _What if... what if they gave me internet access, but the only site I could access was Bing? I'd rather not have a computer at all._ The laughter bubbled up within him, but stopped before reaching his lips.

Jared felt a gentle hand against his cheek, and heard murmured words. It didn't matter, though, who it was or what they wanted, because it clearly wasn't Jensen giving an order, or giving pain. He ignored whoever it was, in favour of staring at the floor and thinking.

Jared felt his bonds loosened, but he stayed limp, over the bench. Jensen didn't tell him to move, so he didn't. He felt a hand on his wrist, and looked up. _Henrik._ Jared recoiled so violently that he fell off the bench, crashing to the floor. _Henrik's hands, the syringe, my sister, dying in her bed._ He scrambled to his hands and knees, fingers gripping the floor, trying to crawl away. _Mom, Dad, still and lifeless. Consuming flames._

Jared was hauled back by an ankle, and felt the familiar pinch in his shoulder. He used his last moments of consciousness to gouge his nails into Jensen's hardwood, trying everything he could, in his desperate panic, to get away.

 

*

 

Jared woke, some indeterminate time later, in his room, still panicked. His heart was beating out of his chest, but he seemed to be alone. In the absence of anyone bearing down on him with a syringe, Jared calmed a little. He glanced around his room, and saw his gifts from Henrik, the movies and the books that he loved so much. It suddenly seemed to Jared like they were coated in his family's blood. He couldn't... he couldn't look at them. He picked them all up, feeling contaminated by touching them, and dumped them all into the small garbage can in the bathroom. There wasn't enough space, of course, and books and disks fell and toppled onto the floor. Jared hesitated a moment, and went back into his room. He picked up the laptop, and his fuzzy socks, all of them, and added them to the mountain of garbage in the bathroom. He closed the door firmly, when he left.

He didn't even want the comfort of his bed. He didn't want _anything_ from the people who had lied to him, abused him, tortured him, and murdered his family. The people who had taken everything from him. He curled into a ball on the floor, in the corner behind where the door to the hallway opened.

Jared had his forehead pressed to his knees, when the proverbial lightbulb went off over his head. He stood, shaking a little, but determined. He walked back to the bathroom and opened the door, making a concerted effort to ignore the pile of discarded, bloodsoaked gifts. He stood before the sink, staring into the mirror, and recalled an image he had seen once, on the internet, before he had been taken. He closed the bathroom door quietly behind him.

 _Rippy the Razor says, it's down the block, not across the street._ Jared might not have a razor he could use, but broken glass was sharp as hell. He looked at himself for a moment, disgusted with what he saw, before slamming his fist into the mirror. It fell in tinkling shards onto the counter, and into the sink. Jared searched the wreckage, and found the perfect piece – long and slender. _Here goes nothing. I'll see you guys soon._ The glass sliced his fingers as he gripped it tight and slashed a long wound up the inside of his left wrist. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the things he'd had inflicted upon him. The blood flowed freely, and Jared thought the cut was deep enough. He moved the glass to his left hand, and quickly slashed up the inside of his right wrist, too. He dropped his piece of glass, and sank to the floor. He held his wrists out in front of him, watching with satisfaction as the pools of his blood spread on the floor. Jared closed his eyes and smiled.

Jared jolted, and his eyes flew open as the door to his room slammed open, and then the door to the bathroom slammed open. Henrik stood framed in it, his face white with shock. Jared cowered on the floor, bringing bloodsoaked hands up over his head and sobbing, terrified. Henrik grabbed him, picked him up, and full-out _ran_ down the hallways.

Jared noticed that the lighting seemed to be getting more dim, the farther they got down the hall. He felt weak, and tired, and thought he might sleep. Forever. He closed his eyes, and drifted off, hoping never to wake. Jared was so ready to _”greet Death as an old friend.”_

 

*

 

Jared came to, slowly, and blinked bleary eyes. He was in a bed, propped up a little, in some sort of... hospital room. He looked down, and there was a girl, sleeping, holding his hand, her hair across her face.

 _What the hell...?_ Jared reached across, his wrist stiff with bandages, the tube in the back of his hand tugging a little, and gently brushed her hair back.

“Megan!” Jared gasped. He sat bolt upright, startling the girl out of her sleep.

“Jared, oh my God, we've been so worried!” Jared's sister burst into tears and threw herself on him, hugging him tight. Jared pressed his face into her hair, speechless with shock and confusion.

“They... they weren't sure you were going to wake up.” Megan sobbed against him.

“Is... is this Heaven?” Jared asked uncertainly.

“This is a hospital, you idiot.” She slapped his arm and released him, sitting back, smiling and wiping at her tears.

“... Mom... Dad?” 

“They're just in the cafe having some food.” Megan dug in her pocket, pulled out a phone, and began texting furiously.

Jared fell back against his pillows, stunned.

A few moments later, Jared's parents burst in through his door, and engulfed him in tearful hugs. Tears of joy spilled down his face.

“My poor, sweet baby boy. What did they do to you?” Jared's mom framed his face with her hands, her eyes filled with tears, her fingers gentle against his bruised and damaged skin.

Jared shook his head wordlessly. “It... it doesn't matter, Mom. What matters is that you guys are all safe.” Jared frowned, remembering the newspaper. “But... the house...”

Jared's father nodded at him. “We were contacted by a group of people with knowledge of where you were and what was happening, and they made us aware of the danger we were in. They staged the house fire.”

Jared blinked up at him. “But... your bodies... are you sure this isn't heaven??”

Megan reached over, and gave Jared's arm a vicious pinch.

“Ow! Megan, what the hell??” Jared rubbed his arm.

“You're not dreaming, and you're not in heaven.” She picked up her phone, and began texting again.

Jared heard his father chuckle, and looked back to him. “The bodies were necessary, as part of the ruse, to convince the people who had you that their attempts on our lives succeeded. They belonged to an unfortunate family who had died in a car crash.”

 _A group of people... but no one knew where I was, except for the people in the house._ “W-who...”

“There are a number of them, but we mostly speak to a lovely man named Henrik.” Jared's mother stroked his cheek.

Jared's mouth dropped open. The door opened and Henrik walked in. He gave Jared a broad smile, one that Jared had never seen before, and walked to stand near the end of Jared's bed.

Jared was stunned into silence. Henrik chuckled.

“I think you can see, I've terminated my employment with the estate. I had some... connections, that I was able to employ, to move your family to safety when they were threatened. I am sorry, profoundly sorry, that wasn't able to tell you what was going on. But clearly, the doctor did not lie to you.” Henrik smiled. “I'm glad to see you've woken up. It was touch and go there, for some time.”

“Is... is the doctor...”

“She's here. She's been overseeing your medical care. She saved you, Jared, after what happened in the bathroom. She was able to stabilize you enough to allow us to extract you, and to transport you to hospital.”

Jared blinked up at Henrik, feeling a complicated mix of emotions. His eyes filled with tears, and he spread his arms, reaching for Henrik. Jared's parents took a few steps backwards, and Henrik stepped to Jared's side, hugging him tightly. Jared sobbed into Henrik's shoulder.

“I am so sorry, kid. So, so sorry.” Henrik whispered, the words just for Jared. “I wish I could have gotten you out earlier, but I didn't know it would get so bad, so quickly, and those sorts of extractions take time and careful planning. I did the best I could, and I know it wasn't good enough. That Ackles kid was a fucking sociopath, and his father was even worse. But I got you out, and your family out, and you're all... well, maybe you'll be okay, in time.” Henrik squeezed Jared tightly.

“T-thank you, oh my God, Henrik, thank you...” Jared sobbed unashamedly against Henrik. Henrik lifted a hand, and gently cupped the back of Jared's head while he held him.

Something pinged, quite suddenly, inside Jared's head. _Jensen..._ was _a sociopath??_ A frown creased Jared's forehead. “Henrik, what happened...”

Henrik's voice was quiet against Jared's ear. “It was the damnedest thing – a house fire, a malfunction of the smoke alarm systems. Two fatalities. It was a kinder death than they deserved.”

Henrik let Jared go after a final hug, and stood, smiling his enigmatic smile. He winked down at Jared, and moved to stand back at the foot of the bed.

The door opened again, and the Ackles' doctor rushed in, straight over to Jared, ignoring everyone else and sweeping him into a huge hug. Jared heard her crying, and clutched her tight. Jared didn't know what to say.

“You...” Jared's voice was tight. “You saved me.”

The doctor pulled back a little, a brilliant smile shining through her tears. She brushed his hair back. “You saved yourself, sweet boy. I'm so glad you woke up.” She pressed a kiss to Jared's forehead. 

Jared leaned back against his pillows, surrounded by the doctor and Henrik and his family.

He still wasn't convinced this wasn't heaven.


End file.
